Guardians of Elpis
by Sokai
Summary: Five young women, formerly separate, become one as an unexpected task, an unexpected destiny swiftly becomes their own, as they encounter a world unlike any other, and the battle of a lifetime.
1. Prologue: The Summons

**Guardians of Elpis**

**By Sokai and Evilness321**

**Disclaimer: ** Never will the series, W.I.T.C.H., ever be claimed to be owned by either one of us . . . because then we'd just end up in jail and could no longer write for you nice people. However, where this NEW plot/name, characters (including one new one/'replacement' of sorts)/attacks/anything else that doesn't seem familiar to the original series are concerned, we DO own . . . so back off. LoL.

Dual Note (from Sokai and Evilness321): _As a fair amount of former readers to this tale may notice/realize, yes, this used to be entitled "Guardians of **Eos**," and also used to be housed within my former co-author's account, instead. However, she had chosen to opt out of continuing on with the story, having lost general interest and other reasons, it seems like._

_At any rate, as the world of Eos and its creatures, alongside the character of Gina had been hers, all of that has been removed from the overall tale, so that everything else which had been previously established on my (Sokai's) end (powers, the other characters, etc) could remain and continue on, as a new co-author, my good friend, Evilness321, could join on (and so that the former co-author could have/keep her ideas without fear of it being stolen or envisioned within another way from what she might have had in mind had she stayed on). _

_With her, she brings with her her OWN character to be sort of a replacement of sorts, as well as her own replacement world, the world of Elpis (hence the title change). And so, while the chapters which I had already gotten out before the old version had been taken down are more or less the same (and will be re-posted in due course), please note that this prologue is completely brand new and entirely of Evilness321's creation/vision (hailing from an old, original story of hers, this world of Elpis, for the most part, although the name was/is my own doing, and with a few other changes/additions to her "borrowed" world meshed together by us both); also note that her new character/replacement's debut chapter will also be brand new._

_With all of that said, we all hope you will (re)enjoy this story, which I am personally glad to finally be able to continue on with!_

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><p>This story was first created on May 6, 2006, and 'canceled' within mid-2011. It has been revamped November 2011.<p>

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><p><strong>Prologue: The Summons<strong>

It was a world unlike any other.

Ancient, yet new, sprawling, deep and rich in history and strife.

Five moons orbited this world, sometimes a sixth, every one hundred years within accordance to its orbital patterns. And so, without fail, there was always a moon, or two, or three, in the blue skies of the majestic and mystical creation of Elpis.

On the western side of the main landmass, sat the largest feature on a plateau that stretched out for miles, until reaching a mountain range that bordered the land to the north, or the fellow mountains that bordered the country of the High Elves, as well as the Horse Lords to the south.

Near the epicenter of the bountiful terrain stood a gleaming castle, like a spike of diamond silver, towers raised higher into the sky than any from the city that surrounded it on its eastern side.

The Silver Castle, as it has been dubbed since its early beginnings, sat in the valley between the two mountain ranges on the plateau that overlooked the ocean to the west. The plateau stretched out eastward, to a large lake that was fed by a river from the mountains in the north, and farther east was the land that none of the Elves, Horse Lords, or Other Peoples in the west dared entered.

The castle, itself, had been there for as long as any in the land could hope to recall, far back when the flourishing city around it had been a mere village, and possibly even before then. It was easily the most recognizable landmark upon the western side of the country.

Much about its actual origins remain fairly unknown, although many of the Elpisian natives believe it may well have been formed through the overpowering magic of the Woodland Elves, kin to the High Elves and who lived within the Crystal Forest, to the northeast of the castle. Not much has ever been known about the Woodland Elves, or their overall societal structures, for they have remained traditionally recluse for many years, almost on even footing as the Horse Lords in that regard, who, despite their inviting, wide open grasslands and rolling emerald hills, have continually chosen to encase themselves within their own dwellings.

The High Elves in the lands between the two mountain ranges, the Woodland Elves in the Crystal Forest to the North, the Horse Lords in the South, and remaining Other Peoples have all lived peacefully with each other for countless generations, despite personal preferences, even standing together when darkness would ever dare threaten their world.

Currently, with no known strife to call the Elpisian people to arms, peace has reigned and made all lands prosperous . . . even near the Crossing, the border and last outpost before moving into the Eastern lands, where both the Other Peoples and a fair amount of those hailing from the Elven race have lived within good spirits since the time of the final war between them had been waged and amicably ended long ago.

Generations have gone by without any sign of the reemergence of the world's Guardians, its appointed protectors, as a direct result of its continued peaceful times; however, while the overall inhabitants of Elpis were rather content with this knowledge, there was at least one being who understood, who felt, that their unified days of peace would soon be over, and in its place an overwhelming period of turmoil would soon be at hand.

Within the tallest tower of the Silver Castle, that looked as though it nearly touched the heavens, was an overpowering feeling as though a shadow had crept up along the gleaming, silvery halls, casting a dark glow upon the singular, female figure bent down in prayer.

Wearing white robes of silk, lined with a fine floral pattern embroidered in gold, her shoulder length hair matched the color of her vestments, a glistening silvery-white, while her amber yellow eyes mildly mimicked the flattering designs there upon.

And when these amber colored eyes opened, they seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, yet at the same time observing everything. The room the lone woman was within was circular in structure, and like the rest of the castle, the walls were of pure silver and diamond encrusted, reflecting the sunlight that burst in through the open stained glass window at the top of the domed ceiling.

A crystal chandelier hung from the center, casting many specks of colored rainbow light in the diamond room, almost like a prism had been set there.

Although there were no paintings in this room, the windows at the top and around provided its own canvas of sorts, having a faint, stained glass appeal to them and bearing the only signs of the castle's possible true age to anyone who might look upon them. The floor consisted of a pattern, a thin gold line in the form of an eight pointed star etched into the silver marble, with a circle that looped around it several times.

And within the center of the star on the floor, almost as a finishing touch, was the ever silent, prayerful woman.

She'd been there for days (possibly even weeks at this point, as the passing time has become increasingly interwoven to her), merely meditating, praying, and even hoping, as a looming threat in the east grew and threatened the peace and stability that the majority of Elpis had long since come to accept as their way of life, especially after the Hundred Year War had finally concluded.

Now, it was nearing the two hundredth anniversary since the ending of that war, but instead of unanimous celebrations, slight rumors and other various hearsay was curiously growing in its place, whispers of the ageless fear that had risen in the east having reached her ears . . . and she pondered what to do.

Should she let it continue to grow and fester like a bubbling cauldron before it threatened to explode? Or should she take the preemptive strike, and cast herself from this castle in search of the warriors who could save them all?

Yet, she was reluctant to even summon the legendary warriors, the Guardians of Elpis, once more. Her own daughter, her only child, had been one of them, among the first quintet ever to be appointed the noble position, and who'd helped save their world before . . . but she, like her companions, had tragically perished during one of the final battles in The Unknown Lands further out East.

The death of her daughter traumatized the holy woman, the Priestess, for some time, and her sister, the only family she had left, had been changed forever as a result of that ongoing, trying conflict . . . a fact, specifically as to how, why, and possibly by _whom_, that was still disturbingly murky, and full of unwelcome mystery to this very day.

Fighting against Nagira directly, her sister, her remaining _blood_, would require a strength of will to kill, above all else, for Nagira wasn't what one could call 'normal evil.' If anything, she had been considered to be one of, if not the most formidable foes the world had ever faced, even amongst the various obstacles set in motion during the treacherous battles in The Unknown Lands.

As it was, it had taken the collective front of the fallen Elpis Guardians to at last make progress within their direct confrontation with Nagira, managing only to place an eternal seal upon her as their last protective act . . . but if that seal had indeed somehow been opened. . . .

The Priestess, Adolpha Silverhawk, didn't want to think about it any further.

At long last she allowed herself to stand from her place of continued solitude, in a single, graceful movement of white and gold.

Adolpha seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, before making her mind up about something privy only to her. With a soft sigh, she suddenly transformed into a giant, fully grown tiger with a coat of the purest ivory, and black stripes across the body and tail.

Only the amber eyes from her humanoid form remained the same in this special guise, although they appeared to glow for a moment before she disappeared in a flash of blinding, white light.

Having not journeyed away from the Silver Castle in so long, away from Elpis, itself, Adolpha found that she hadn't any choice. Her urgency was dire, as she sought the assistance of not just _one_ figure, but _several_.

And it would take a good amount of time and energy to find precisely whom she was looking for.

The King and Queen would not be thrilled by her absence, for certain . . . but this was the only way she could send the message to the individuals destined to be the _new_ Guardians.

She could only hope that the bounty of prayers she'd made during the passing weeks would help carry her along a lot faster to her newfound and currently intended destination:

Kandrakar.

Along her steadfast journey to the equally mystified plane as that of her own, Adolpha frowned inwardly to herself. Now as a bright, white hot star streaking through the dimensions toward her point of arrival, the High Priestess simultaneously worked at sending the Summons, or Vision, ahead of time to the ones who would become her world's newest Guardians.

She did not know whom they might be at this point, but could at least discern that all five surprisingly hailed, not from Elpis, as the majority of the premiere Guardians had been, but rather scattered, somewhere upon the planet of _Earth_. . . .

How coincidental, it seemed to the pale faced woman, that her world's soon to be saviors this time held similar origins to that of Kandrakar's _own_ Guardians, rather than ties to her own realm like before. Aldolpha imagined having to bestow the task of anointed protectors upon the shoulders of five, otherwise oblivious Earthlings this time around, and for a place none of them had certainly ever heard of nor ever hoped to believe could possibly exist would be greatly unfair . . . but as the apparently infinite, although familiar and always comforting skies of Kandrakar came into view, she knew there was now no turning back. . . .

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><p>Infinity was endless, indeed, deep and charismatic just as the word, itself. Kandrakar, being the heart of the magical dimensions, appeared to have no end to its surroundings. It was peaceful, quiet. Just the ideal vicinity for the one known as Himmerish to meditate, ponder and question the existence of such power and elegance.<p>

Walking along the halls, he paused at a group of images of the Guardians of the Veil, who affectionately referred to themselves as 'W.I.T.C.H.' more often than not, he'd noticed, for it was a word created when arranged within such a manner, courtesy of the first initial of each females' given names.

Himmerish continued to gaze upon the various visual projections of his champions, his calm, dark eyes beginning to twinkle with pride.

Confident Earth Guardian Cornelia Hale, with her long, golden hair flowing about her, as she summoned a fairly gargantuan sized blossom tree on a whim. The ever humorous Guardian of Water Irma Lair conjuring a giant sphere of water right alongside her at times strained, blonde companion, as though within direct magical competition.

Cheerful and ever bright, even a bit clumsy at times Hay Lin, the Guardian of Air, giggled gaily at the mystical display, while the sometimes shy, however always intelligent and kind Fire Guardian Taranee Cook, and her closest friend and leader of the group, Wilhelmina, or 'Will' Vandom, merely sat side by side and heaved a dual, heavy sigh of mock disapproval.

Ah, yes.

Will.

The one blessedly imbued with all four aspects of the elements, and who so bravely and selflessly united them all with the sacred, and quite frequently coveted Heart of Kandrakar.

Himmerish began to consider the struggles that the magical quintet had gone through to protect the planes of Earth, Metamoor, and even Kandrakar, itself, at one point, in the time they had since become Guardians, when a prickling upon the back of his neck told him that something, or _someone_ was fast approaching his domain.

He hurried outside into the open, having no fear of the newfound arrival, as he contently peered up towards the endless sky and saw what appeared to be a bright, and ferociously burning star. It was curiously growing, gaining within size by the second as it descended straight toward enlightened entity, until it abruptly landed before him within the form of a large, white tiger with mesmerizing amber tinted eyes.

And throughout all of that, Himmerish still hadn't felt alarmed, nor even flinched.

"Ah. . . . The Lady Silverhawk," Himmerish spoke with a calm smile and light nod of welcomed acknowledgment. He'd always found it to be rather amusing that the High Priestess of Elpis's surname was Silverhawk, when her favorite form to shift into from time to time was that of an earthly tiger, as was presently the case before him.

Perhaps it was merely an ironic act of Fate, like so many others within the lives of those he had intimately come to know over time.

Himmerish quickly pushed aside these various thoughts, however, the moment he saw the undeniably storm-tossed look upon the shape-shifting priestess's face, even within tiger form.

He, of all beings, should have known that an abrupt visit from one of his fellow magical companions, after so very long of noted absence, might hold the strong possibility for avid concern.

". . . . Something troubling has carried you from Elpis?" Himmerish asked, almost more so executing it as an honest statement, instead, just as the mystical white tiger transformed into the familiar, beautiful, humanoid sight of the High Priestess Adolpha.

"Yes, Himmerish. . . . I strongly believe that 'The . . . The Shadow' has risen once more into The Unknown Lands, Himmerish." she replied softly, yet firmly, her pale face somehow becoming even more so, while her amber eyes darkened with worried agitation.

Himmerish's own eyes narrowed within similar affect.

"But your Guardians should have sealed it . . . _her_ away, permanently, generations ago," he murmured upon distressful reflection, mindful to take delicate care with choice of words concerning such a matter, especially one so unavoidably personal and tragic for his revered compatriot.

"The . . . seal has _somehow_ been broken. I can _feel_ it. I know not of the appropriate details as of yet, by whom, or why, or perhaps most importantly, _how_, but . . . I am absolutely certain now that it _is_ shattered, Himmerish. And now . . . 'The Shadow' grows once more, and rapidly even stronger," Adolpha frowned, her heart becoming increasingly troubled and heavy. "I come to bring you this development personally, as well as to inform you that . . . I fully intend to summon the _new_ Guardians of Elpis at long last. In truth, as it presently stands, there should be nothing to concern yourself directly with - You, as well as your own Guardians - unless . . . 'The Shadow' should this time set her sights _beyond_ Elpis, and squarely upon Kandrakar of all places. . . . I fear that I am not sure _what_ her desire may be this time . . . besides an undoubted sense of vengeance. . . ."

Himmerish did his best to block out the shuddering sense of dread which then threatened to wash over him upon listening to the ominous forewarning of Elpis's High Priestess. He recalled, quite strongly, the struggle her world's Guardians had gone through in order to successfully subdue 'The Shadow,' and how within the end all which could have been achieved was 'simply' sealing her away . . . at the cost of their very lives.

And so if the combined efforts of the Elpis Guardians, who'd possessed a level of magic which admittedly, and unmistakably rivaled, even quite honestly surpassed that of his _own_ Guardians, hadn't been enough to do away with this overwhelming threat within a permanent sense, he felt positively crippled at the thought of how well 'W.I.T.C.H.' would fair (despite all of his girls' personal and unified accomplishments), should the _new_ Guardians of Elpis succumb, as well.

After all, before now, there had never _been_ a need nor intent for a new set of Elpis Guardians to ever be appointed, as the first and only quintet to have upheld the position had been imbued so strongly with all the mystical blessings that that world had to offer, that they had never failed as its protectors throughout the many, seemingly endless decades of having done so.

There had never been a foe encountered which they could not best . . . until 'The Shadow.'

Until _Nagira_. . . .

". . . . I shall certainly be on the alert if such a travesty should occur, Lady Adolpha. The _last_ attack upon this fortress amidst our _own_, separate battle has admittedly weakened our defenses greatly, as I am sure you are aware. And so, we are still within recovery," Himmerish revealed tensely, directing the ivory haired woman's vision to the last sign of the great battle which had taken place within his sacred dwellings, scars upon the otherwise pristine domain.

Nodding solemnly, giving brief pause, Adolpha pursed her thin lips together before speaking once more.

". . . . So I see . . . regrettably. . . . I must take my leave of you now, Himmerish. The awakening of each chosen Elpis Guardian shall soon be upon my people, as I have already sent 'The Vision' to the newfound leader."

Adolpha then shifted her gaze back onto the remaining signs of damage upon her longtime comrade's personal damage to his home, and seemed to take it in rather quickly, before nodding once more and turning away from the display.

Normally, she would have shown much more care to the overall situation of Kandrakar and any related concerns therein; however, with such a serious threat at hand within her _own_ world, she had little time to spare for the plight of others.

It was admittedly a tad callous of her, all things considered, but she was the High Priestess of Elpis, _not_ of Kandrakar, nor any _other_ known or unknown world within this particular universe. And the job of ensuring the sound protection of her world, her _home_, fell upon her shoulders.

She did not like having to summon brand new Guardians, especially after so long of doing without, and would not if she could avoid doing so.

But, she truly hadn't a choice.

As Adolpha turned back to face Himmerish one last time, her tiger form manifested itself once more, within a brilliance of white illumination.

"I shall . . . alert you on occasion of the progress, if any, that is being made within our war. I pray that said war shall be contained simply within Elpis, and that, moreover, our _new_ Guardians shall be up to the task which is rapidly at hand," she informed The Oracle, fleetingly confessing her growing concerns over her still forming expectations of her motherland's newfound champions.

". . . . I wish you luck, then, Lady Silverhawk," Himmerish began, just as the mystical woman vanished from his sight, before worriedly whispering to himself, ". . . for _all_ of our sakes. . . ."

**To Be Continued. . . .**

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><p><strong>(A.N. from Sokai and Evilness321: Sooo . . . okay. Originally, Evilness's prologue was about four and a half pages long, and was going to stay that way, as I didn't want to really mess with her vision, just as I hadn't with that of my former co-author. But then after re-reading it and realizing there was some slight hiccups in the "might not make sense to the readers" manner, as well as generally feeling some things needed to be expanded upon, I threw my hat into the ring to make this wonderful prologue of Evilness's a combined effort. =) Well, honestly, this entire story's naturally a combined effort, but as was the case with my former co-author, and again with my new one, we will each take a scene, sometimes even a chapter for ourselves to write out after reviewing it with each other, etc, etc. But . . . yeah. In this case, I guess, while Evilness wrote it all out and covered what we'd agreed upon, I went back and added a lil' bit of extra scenesmoments, like I said, to flesh it out a tad more. And now it's ended at seven pages. Damn, me. LoL **

**But, no, seriously. We really hope you enjoyed this new prologue/world of Elpis. The direct mention of the WITCH gals was all Evilness's doing, again, and a bit surprising to me, since the first time around, back when it was still called "Eos," they never were mentioned, as my former co-author and I pretty much made it clear that while The Oracle had been featured then, too, his gals pretty much didn't exist within that world . . . kinda. Pretty much. LoL **

**I don't honestly believe that they'll cross paths with the Elpis gals, really, as I personally do not have plans for them to, from what had always been envisioned since the days when it was still "Eos," but in terms of this prologue and the interaction between Adolpha and 'Himmer-mimmer,' Evilness felt it a bit 'necessary' to mention them. =) **

**Who knows, maybe at the very end of the tale, during the final showdown, they WILL be mentioned again and try to help them out. Why, not. ~ Shrugs ~ LoL **

**Oh! And no, it's not one of those, "Let's make OUR Guardians sooooooooooo much stronger than the canon Guardians! Yay!" As I'd said, they were never originally meant to be mentioned directly, so that it would sort of be perceived that this takes place within an alternate universe of sorts. **

**Still does, honestly.**

**But, as already pretty much illustrated, sort of, the back history, limitations, foundations, guidelines and such of the Elpis Guardians were/are quite different from that of 'Himmer-mimmer's' Guardians. **

**Again, not an honest "we're better" shot. Just always that way, really, since back when it was still "Eos." I'd put a LOT of freaking thought and effort into their overall power listing SINCE the days of "Eos," damn it, let alone all that dynamics, so...yeah. LoL**

**Tired. Reflex. I blame Evilness. =)**

**ANYWAY! **

**Next posting, is Ellie's vision. Remember her? Yeah. LoL But her vision scene is also completely new, also written by Evilness, as it had originally been written by my former co-author. And then the other completely changed aspect will be for/catering to Evilness's own added character/replacement.**

**Sooo . . . yeah! Next posting, most likely later today. =)**

**P.S. And before anyone may ask about my 'The Royal Guardian' story, YES, it will be updated fairly soon, alongside a rather important message about it. So, please, be patient and stay tuned, for this, AND that story.**

**And DEFINITELY definitely check out the rest of Evilness's own tales, especially her 'Batgirl: Beyond' series. Very good stuff, that. =) ) **


	2. Chapter One: Prelude to Destiny

**Guardians of Elpis**

**By Sokai and Evilness321**

**Disclaimer: **Never will the series, W.I.T.C.H., ever be claimed to be owned by us - because then we'd just end up in jail and could no longer write for you nice people. However, where the NEW plot, characters (including one new one/'replacement' of sorts)/attacks/anything else that doesn't seem familiar to the original series are concerned, we DO own - so back off. LoL.

Dual Note (from Sokai and Evilness321): _Not too bad a start with the renewed attention; we thank you. Enjoy this slightly familiar first chapter._

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><p>This story was first created on May 6, 2006, and 'canceled' within mid-2011. It has been revamped November 2011.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Prelude to Destiny, and Mystical Beginnings<strong>

_She was surrounded by nothingness, clouds blocking her vision entirely. The harder she tried to look out beyond the overcast, the thicker they seemed to become, and when she tried to reach out toward them to touch, she could not._

_It had taken her several moments to realize that she was hovering, floating, without anything to support her! _

_She wasn't falling, nor rising, nor moving in any direction at all. It was almost as though she were trapped by some invisible force. . . ._

_'Where am I?' she thought with a small, but growing palpitation of her heart, still looking around as the enshrouded surroundings brought on by the thick, unrelenting clouds pressed down on her like an unforgiving, dark blanket._

_She didn't want to think about it, wherever this place was, and would could possibly be out there. She didn't even want to be here, period, and wished desperately to be back in her own bed, dreaming of whatever fancied her mind that night. _

_Something safe._

_Something normal._

_For this was clearly anything but._

_This just had to be a nightmare._

_It had to be._

_She had to get out here!_

_Just then, an idea sprung forth into her mind. If she were floating, then perhaps she could 'swim,' or propel her way through the rampant cage of clouds. And so she began to kick out ferociously, but had not even gotten that far within her progress when she suddenly collided, hard, into something._

_Something that strangely felt a lot like glass. . . ._

_Rubbing at the top of her head to help soothe her abrupt onset of pain, she looked up, expecting to finally see something, anything. _

_Yet, nothing was there, nothing in front of her, nor around her, or behind her._

_Feeling increasingly frustrated, she turned and went in another direction . . . only to suddenly be met be another glass, apparently invisible barrier. Groaning out in renewed pain and aggravation, she immediately 'swam' towards the last remaining directions, hoping to at last regain her freedom . . . but was, once again met by the same, impenetrable glass wall._

_Positively terrified, she stared wildly about for a few moments more before it suddenly, and horrifically dawn on her. . . ._

_She was somehow encased within crystal! An enormous, diamond shaped crystal!_

_Was this to be her fate? A twisted, horrid fate, trapped inside of a crystal, surrounded by swirling, increasingly violent and stormy clouds forever?_

_"Help me!" she screamed, crying out to her family, friends, anyone who would be able to hear her. To help her get out of this._

_Her voice eerily echoed, almost mockingly, back off against the crystal walls that continually trapped her quite efficiently._

"_Help!" she tried again, fruitlessly. Her voice sounded quite odd in this unknown place, almost as though it were no longer her own, the more she continued to cry out. _

_Her desperation and panic mounted greatly. _

_She was now banging on the crystal walls._

_She was alone._

_More alone than she'd ever thought she possibly could be in her entire life. And with seemingly no way out, she could no longer properly fathom what precisely to do next, or if it would even matter. . . ._

_Suddenly, another sound, one not made by her, rang out into the isolated atmosphere, startling her, as she was pressing her hands against the crystal wall in front of her and trying to force her way out._

_She looked up. It was beginning to rain, and hard. Surely, she would no doubt drown if she couldn't somehow break free from her mysterious prison! _

_The clouds were churning faster, darkening even more to an inky black, as though a storm were brewing. She was positively terrified of storms normally, and would have been for this one on the rise, as well . . . yet it seemed different, somehow. _

_Despite all of the impending danger all around her now, without question, she was suddenly entranced, entranced by this falling storm, almost to the point of near hypnotism for a few moments._

_And then, yet another sound quickly reached her ears._

_Crack._

_Crackle._

_Crack, again, rapidly like the sound of something giving way or crumbling, like bubble wrap being popped, or . . . breaking glass. _

_She immediately backed away, looking up and around her, before then seeing that the crystal walls that so effortlessly encased her were now threatening to shatter, and shower her in a sea of undoubtedly painful shards. _

_At the same time, a flash of silver caught her attention from within the corner of her eye and slightly behind her, and she whirled around as a bit more of her unyielding surroundings vaguely revealed a bit more of itself to her._

_What looked like silvery strips of shiny metal framed the crystal she was trapped within. Her heart hammered against her chest at the sight. Surely, this really wasn't a dream, after all, if she could feel it beating so ferociously in her undeniable terror._

_Just then, an unfamiliar, disembodied and lilting female voice calmly, yet imposingly called out to her in the darkness._

_"Ellie. . . . Ellie . . . the time has come. . . . Your time . . . is now. . . ."_

_She did not even have any sort of time to react to the unexpected voice now ringing about the disintegrating atmosphere, or how it, how she, frighteningly knew her name. The sides of the diamond shaped crystal were then starting to rattle, and she knew that sharp gusts of wind was rushing against it._

_That, combined with the rain, and the formerly sound, diamond shaped crystal that was now beginning to shatter violently._

_There was no doubt in her mind that she would fall now, fall to her doom once the 'floor' also gave way, as well. She reached out in vain, stretching both arms out in front of her in order to try and perhaps somehow grab onto the silvery frame in time before she fell, and. . . . _

With a sharp gasp of alarm, twenty-one-year old Janelle "Ellie" Milleret abruptly bolted upright within her bed, chocolate brown eyes wide within shock.

Looking wildly about her shadowed bedroom, with her wavy and disheveled, medium length, dark chocolate and mahogany colored hair lightly whipping at her caramel cheeks, she let out a relieved sigh when she saw that she was still within the safety of her haven, her home.

Despite the natural darkness which nighttime induced, Ellie could still see her familiar pale blue painted walls, with various anime, manga, and other television specific posters hanging against them, in addition to the large, painted ceiling mural she had spent the better part of the last year and a half completing, courtesy of her innate artistic abilities.

Set upon her ivory tinted nightstand, to the right of her queen size bed, was a black radio alarm clock which deplorably read 'twelve AM' within bold, green illumination. Clutching the thick, random frog-printed comforter of her bed with clammy palms, Ellie swallowed hard as she wiped a fresh bead of sweat from off of her forehead.

Inhaling deeply several times in order to calm herself, Ellie glanced out her bedroom window within the slight distance before her, the shades half opened with the royal blue curtains drawn slightly. She could vaguely make out the peaceful sight of rain glowing and shimmering against the neighborhood streetlights and cascading down onto the ground, as she then simultaneously heard a contrasting, commanding wind howl around the house's exterior, which was soon after accompanied by a low rumble of thunder.

. . . . _Well, no wonder I had that crazy dream,_ Ellie mused with a slight shiver, lightly rubbing at her bare, slender arms within comfort before slowly drawing up her knees against her chest._ I wouldn't be surprised to hear that I wasn't the only one to experience such discomfort on a night like this. I just hope that the weather will improve later on, in time for my scheduled plans. . . ._

Suddenly, as though within response to the continually dazed young woman's pondering, a deafening clamor of renewed thunder reverberated within the night sky, penetrating through the clouds and straight into Ellie's bedroom, giving her the strong impression that the walls would give at any moment.

Despite her best efforts to remain as collected as possible, Ellie could not help herself, as she immediately began to shudder violently as a chilling feeling washed over her, making her mind muddled and her heart absolutely palpitate.

She thoroughly disliked thunderstorms, ever since one evening she was unexpectedly caught within a truly vicious one two years earlier, while on her way home from a friend's get together. She especially detested the way each and every one of them quite normally temporarily crippled her, such as it was within that particular moment.

It was an unfortunate debilitation that she generally did not let anyone know about, nor bear witness to (except perhaps with or around her older sister, Bree, with whom she had always shared a rich and trusting rapport), as her sometimes overbearing pride would have none of it.

It had taken more than just a few moments for Ellie to thoroughly decompress, as she both silently and repeatedly reminded herself that it was only a storm, one which could not harm her, and one which would soon pass.

Taking one final, deep draw of breath, the formerly flustered young woman slowly lowered herself back onto her bed, and pulled her thick comforter all the way up to her ears.

_Even though it's over and gone now . . . it still was the strangest dream I can recall ever having_, Ellie tiredly thought, reflecting upon the disturbing nightmare one final time as she began to thankfully drift back into sleep. _Everything was just so . . . vivid . . . almost like I was really there. And . . . And that haunting voice . . . what did it want from me?_

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><p>Being an extremely avid animal lover, one would surmise that working at a veterinary clinic would be a true joy; however, unfortunately for Ellie, it had merely added to the stress of what was shaping out to be a rather lousy week.<p>

Fitting her house key into the front door's lock to the two-story, beige colored house that she occupied with her parents, Manny and Jeanne (who were thankfully running errands and so would not be able to bombard her with "What's the matter?" questions that she was not within any mood to respond to), the great agitation flowing from her body like a steady fountain could almost be seen emitting from her, the way she practically shoved the metal device through the keyhole.

_God, I can't wait for my extended vacation next week,_was the following thought of the lithe, caramel cream skinned, recent, early college graduate as she practically slammed the white colored door blindly behind her and marched straight up the stairs directly before her, which would lead her into the hallway and towards her bedroom.

After a long, rotten (although thankfully now rain free) day of PMS-riddled co-workers, uncouth clients, and restless animals that just would not cooperate, Ellie was very much tempted to simply fall unconscious and call it a day (even though she had plans to go to a concert in a bit) the moment her usually vibrant, now weary chocolate colored orbs rested upon her cushy queen sized bed.

It was sort of funny to her that, even though it had been her old bed that had frequently given her sleeping problems, she still unfortunately found herself unable to slumber so well upon this new one.

_Maybe it's not so 'comfy,' after all,_Ellie tiredly mused, carelessly plopping herself onto her inviting bedspread, at the same time that she frivolously tossed her car keys and black handbag onto the empty, small lime green egg chair placed within the corner of the room.

Or . . . maybe her renewed and regrettable lack of sleep (which also contributed to her feral irritability for the majority of her day), even on this brand new mattress, had something to do with the superbly bizarre dream she'd had earlier that morning . . . or would it have been more accurate to refer to it as a _nightmare?_

In either sense, it still didn't make much sense to the extremely analytical young female, the more she'd tried to piece it together.

However, like most of her dreams (whenever Ellie reflected upon them repetitively and the more time that elapsed since having first experienced it), this one had already become increasingly muddled and hard to decipher even further.

"But I guess it's just as well," said Ellie aloud to herself while thoughtfully gazing up at her thankfully finished painted mural upon her ceiling, much as she had earlier that same morning, and indeed, every morning since its completion. "Dreams are just that: _Dreams_. Nothing more, and nothing less. It was probably just something I'd eaten that caused me to have such a crazy one in the first place. . . ."

She then lazily rolled onto her side, as she closed her tired eyes for an intended moment before carrying on within her single conversation.

"Besides, like anyone would believe me if I told them about it - Especially not Jules. She'd probably laugh heartily within my face, right before having me committed . . . Speaking of Julia, though, I'd better . . . get ready . . . for the concert . . . before she gets mad at me for . . . being late. . . ." Ellie trailed off lightly, as the satisfying and comforting feel of sleep unexpectedly then blanketed her fatigued body and senses. . . .

"Whoa! Looking hot there, Hon! Planning on snagging a few hot guys' attention while we're here? Maybe even of the _famous_ super hotties who will be performing today while you're at it? Doing so, of course, will blow _my_ chances of doing the same, since I look like complete shit by comparison - All thanks to you and _your_ great outfit. . . . But, _anyway_, I'm actually surprised that you'd managed to throw something that sizzling together so fast, let alone get here before _I_ did, since I live closer, _and_ didn't just get off from work like you had. How _did_ you do it, E?" Ellie heard her caring, very outspoken, straightforward and sometimes sensitive friend, Julia Brunello, say to her direct right, within her usually cheerful, New York accent which was far more thick than her own.

"_Huh?_ Oh, I, uh . . . I don't know, actually . . . I guess . . . I'm just faster than I thought. . . ." she replied within a slight daze, posing more of a question of her own rather than a secure answer.

How _had_ Ellie been able to get ready so fast, _and _arrive at the concert site before her friend, apparently? The details, as well as answer, continued to be out of her reach, as her mind frantically tried to find both while her eyes at last focused upon her new surroundings.

For it was at that moment that Ellie properly realized that both she and Julia were indeed standing within the very crowded parking lot of the gargantuan Dutch Stadium, where the "Music Fest 12" concert that planned to showcase the extraordinary talents of various music artists of today in just a little while.

Looking down at the rather large rain puddle in which she'd found her favorite pair of beaded, blue thong sandals, Ellie could then see firsthand what her slightly older friend had been generously complementing her over.

Her medium length, raven and dark brown colored tresses were now neatly styled into generous curls, which delicately fell and curved around her smooth visage that currently harbored a light amount of makeup.

Gasping, Ellie flashed herself a stunned gaze at the rest of her appearance. A white, lace bust tank top perfectly hugged the upper half of her slender body, while a sky blue, mirroring white lace stretch skirt, with a decorative crystal heart shaped buckle flattered her bottom half, as well as the overall ensemble.

Despite the continued shock of having such an outfit on (primarily due to the fact that it was one she did not personally own, the last time she'd checked, and only saw it within passing while at the mall earlier that week), Ellie couldn't help but to smile lightly and internally agree with the short, Italian-American brunette standing a bit impatiently beside her: She _did_ look pretty glamorous.

Before the thought could further sink in and undoubtedly make her blush out of embarrassment in the process, Ellie suddenly felt Julia lightly hit her side with her silver handbag.

"Earth to E! You still with us? You can check yourself out more later. Right now, let's just get inside for the pre-show, before the rest of the pack _tramples _us," she joked, referring to the steady flow of people walking past them and continuing on toward the stadium's entrance, as a small but growing smirk formed upon her tawny hued countenance, looking at the surprised girl next to her.

". . . . Y-Yeah . . . coming. . . ." murmured Ellie, allowing Julia to begin walking ahead of her, suddenly feeling a bit woozy and disoriented as a faint, but growing ringing began to sound within her head.

And then, without warning, the surroundings of the stadium's parking lot and stadium itself melted away as she felt the sensation of being uncontrollably and violently yanked away.

"_Ah!_" Ellie cried out in shock as her eyes flew open, before blankly staring at her brown closet door within the distance.

Curiously feeling even more wiped out than she had when she'd first arrived home, Ellie slowly sat up and groggily looked about her "new" environment . . . before realizing that she was mysteriously back inside of her bedroom, as though she had never even left for the concert. . . .

"But . . . I _couldn't_ have, could I? I mean, there's no way that I could have gotten there and back again so quickly. . . . And I'm still wearing my _work_ clothes - Not to mention that my hair's also a complete _mess_ . . . So it _had _to have been a dream . . . right?" she shakily asked herself after looking down at her far less than spectacular apparel and blindly examining her disheveled locks.

It was then that she at last focused upon the same ringing she'd heard within her supposed "dream" as it grew louder and louder, threatening to damage her eardrums. Looking to the right towards her nightstand, Ellie finally realized that it was her cell phone which had been calling out for her in all that time - Or, more specifically and coincidentally, _Julia._. . .

"H . . . Hello?" Ellie said hesitantly after answering the phone, well before having raised it to her ear.

"E? Where'd you go? Did I lose you within the crowd or something?" said Julia over the other end, sounding greatly frantic, as well as nettled.

"W-What? 'Lose me within the crowd?' I don't understand," said Ellie, although the sinking feeling of discomfort that was currently beginning to churn within her stomach was letting her know that she might be beginning to . . . in addition to what her friend might possibly say next.

Sure enough, Julia feverishly gushed, "_Hello?_ The _concert! _You know, you and me, walking inside of the stadium together - At least we _were_, about two seconds ago, until you vanished on me . . . What gives?"

Feeling her body turn rigid upon hearing this, Ellie immediately dropped the phone to the floor within dismay, suddenly faced within the large possibility that what had just occurred was truly anything _but_ a dream. . . .

**- To Be Continued. . . .**

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><p><strong>(A.N. from Sokai and Evilness321: Annnd, there you have it. The re-posting of the old Eos intro, in terms of Ellie's debut and one of her many powers manifesting, that is. Some things changed here and there, but mostly the same. Really only the very very beginning with that visiondream she'd experienced was entirely changed.**

**Next up, the debut of Evilness's character, 'Sandra,' the replacement for 'Gina,' and HER overall debut, as well as powers. We hope you'll all stay tuned!)**


	3. Chapter Two: A Flighty Situation

**Guardians of Elpis**

**By Sokai and Evilness321**

**Disclaimer: **Never will the series, W.I.T.C.H., ever be claimed to be owned by us - because then we'd just end up in jail and could no longer write for you nice people. However, where the NEW plot, characters (including one new one/'replacement' of sorts)/attacks/anything else that doesn't seem familiar to the original series are concerned, we DO own - so back off. LoL.

Dual Note (from Sokai and Evilness321): _Sorry for the hugely late posting of this chapter; had to wait on Evilness to 'shake it off' in terms of the dreadfully evil (ha LoL) Writer's Block for her Sandra's debut. Thankfully I'd already written Katie's bit years ago, and needed only to copy/paste. Yay. LoL_

_In any event, we hope you'll enjoy, especially, the entirely newly added scene of the equally newly added Guardian-to-Be, Sandra, in lieu of the former Gina, in addition to enjoying the (familiar, for some who'd read it back, again, when it was still "Guardians of Eos") closing scene. =)_

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><p>This story was first created on May 6, 2006, and 'canceled' within mid-2011. It has been revamped November 2011.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: A Flighty Situation<strong>

Grumbling within the midst of her fairly deep slumber, about some random thing or another, twenty-year-old Sandra Poole rolled over in her covers, dislodging one of her five cats that had been curled up at her feet upon her purple themed bedspread.

The white, long haired feline, aptly named Snowflake, hissed indignantly at her owner's sudden disruption and stalked off, tail held high in the air in furthered annoyance at being so rudely awakened before she was ready for the new day.

"Hmm?" Sandra groggily mumbled at this, still partially encased within a sleep filled haze, as she wearily cracked one sapphire colored eye open in time to catch her marshmallow resembling pet briskly saunter away from her.

It was still fairly early in the morning, possibly even as early as seven on the dot, it felt like to the raven haired young woman, before she somehow managed to rouse herself further from out of her previously content sleep and glanced over at her alarm clock to see the actual time of nearly eight-thirty.

_Even worse. It's actually later than what I thought, yet I feel like I've barely slept at all,_ Sandra thought with a heavy, rather fatigued groan, before promptly snapping awake as the present time sunk in even more.

"Damn it. And now I'm late for my medicine. Wonderful day this is shaping out to be so far," she grumbled to herself in between a sharp series of yawns. Quickly pulling back her long, sleep tangled hair into a mid-back sweeping ponytail, Sandra practically catapulted herself straight out of the warmth of her comfortable bed, and settled her bare feet onto the cold, and unforgiving wooden floor of her fairly spacious bedroom.

Making her way into the bathroom, a bit zigzagging due to her continued struggle to completely shake off the last of her sleep deprivation, Sandra immediately reached for the clear drinking glass she always kept upon her sink in order to take her multitude of daily medication with. As per the usual day to day routine, Sandra mindlessly turned on the cold water faucet and filled up her empty glass with one hand, while reaching into her medicine cabinet to retrieve the correct amount of pills from out of its amber tinted bottle with the other.

As she slowly began to focus upon the cool, crisp liquid continuing to filter into the glass within her left hand, Sandra's admittedly agitated mind sifted through the other, various goings on within her life at present, much like she usually would each morning as of late.

In truth, she pretty much hated the way things were developing for her right now, the primary aggravation having to do with her constantly fluctuating health. Within the grand spectrum of things, possessing one which had always been, at best, precarious since early childhood, what with various allergies, stomach viruses and sensitivities and the like, it wasn't really anything Sandra could not and did not handle with as much grace as she could muster up to now. It was merely something she had learned to just roll with the punches over, and prepared and adjusted her daily routines and food intake accordingly.

However, now that she was a college student, a sophomore at that, her wishy-washy wellness was beginning to become rather daunting to Sandra, as it was now directly interfering with her academic progression. She was currently on extended hiatus from college, for the fifth time now (although it sometimes felt more like the five _hundredth_ to her) that Summer early semester, due to a rather painful ear infection, an occurrence so frequent throughout the general scope of her young life it had honestly become second nature, regrettably.

At the rate she was going, it was becoming a rather strong possibility that she just may become a 'seasoned' sophomore, the way she was rapidly falling behind within the majority of her current classes. . . .

With another loud, and generous yawn, shaking off the last of her sleepiness, in addition to her brooding, quite familiar thoughts, Sandra then carefully popped the two white colored and slenderly shaped medicated pills into her mouth before lifting her full glass of water to her lips to take a deep, thirst-riddled swig.

A few minutes after, Sandra was ready to face the new day, a bit more fresh faced, both metaphorically as well as literally, now that her basic grooming rituals were out of the way. Exiting both her bathroom as well as her bedroom, her favorite lilac colored robe wrapped securely around her, she quietly moved down the short hallway leading to her kitchen to get a start on breakfast. All five of her affectionate, although at times much more so _mischievous_ cats were already gathered, quite blatantly waiting, a bit impatiently it seemed for some of them, for their morning meal, as well.

Sandra felt herself go into autopilot by that point, moving further into the kitchen and carefully stepping over or generally maneuvering around each fluffy feline in order to reach her metallic silver colored CD player faithfully propped up against her kitchen wall nearest her stove. Like always, before anything else got done throughout the course of each newborn day, Sandra's prized album of her favorite J-Pop artist had to be blaring throughout her comfortably sized apartment. Not only did doing so usually helped keep her awake a lot easier, but it also just generally seemed to speed up the process of whatever daily chores and errands she'd have set for the day.

_This _particular day, it was Sandra's hope to go into town some time later on in order to pick out a few new art supplies, as she so desperately needed to let loose some creative steam, but since today's chore list was already shaping out to be quite the long one, it looked as though she was going to have to give the list to her mother when she stopped by a bit later to check in on her daughter, before heading to work.

Sandra couldn't honestly recall the last time she had been able to set aside an entire day for herself to simply embrace her creative side, the way she used to be able to do before entering college, and before her onslaught of repeated ear infections began. If it wasn't doodling, either by hand or digitally through the use of her trusty computer, she would be crafting homemade jewelry, a bit of clothing, or some furniture such as throw pillows.

And if that wasn't enough to occupy, or satisfy her ongoing zest for personal expression, Sandra would then switch to cooking or baking up various, delicious dishes and treats for herself or for her family, the majority of her recipes usually being gluten-free, of course, or else her extremely sensitive stomach would surely pay the ultimate price, otherwise.

Lastly, another pastime the multitasking, talented young woman rather enjoyed doing was writing, weaving literal yarns which were mostly short stories, if not the occasional poem here and there. Of all of her activities, it was her writing, especially those short stories of hers that Sandra was careful not to share with others, namely, her family.

Because although she was very much an adult, Sandra's parents, Raymond and Liv, still insisted very much upon telling her what to do, when and how to do it, for a fairly large encompassing part of her overall life and affairs. And although they, in truth, meant well with their overprotective nature towards their habitually poorly feeling child, it was nonetheless rather stifling to Sandra, especially concerning her various outlets.

It was, after all, through which she could and would escape the admitted limitations both her health, as well as hovering parents, especially her mother, would impose upon her, consciously or no.

And this was precisely why Sandra could never allow either parent to read any of her literary creations. And it wasn't honestly because said creations were of the brooding, rage filled variety, either, as what possibly might be expected from most anyone else placed within her particular way of life.

It was actually due to the fact her storytelling mindset had almost always been fairytale oriented, settings froth with abundant fantasy themes of far off places, magical creatures and superheroes. Although this was quite common, downright normal, especially nowadays for majority of society, what with the latest movies and television shows illustrating the point home even further, it was anything but to Sandra's parents.

To them, such activity was more or less a waste of time, time which could be better spent doing something much more productive. Sandra could only imagine the 'gripe-fest' (as she privately referred to whenever either her father, or more often, her mother would get going about whatever leftover errand or chore their daughter had yet to complete within her own home) which would be had if it was ever discovered that not only did she, herself, partake within 'such activity,' but more often than not modeled every hero, or _heroine_, more accurately, astoundingly after herself within her stories.

What a field day _that_ would be, having to explain away the primary reason for her doing so was so that she could feel a way she never truthfully had before within her real life.

_Strong_.

Completely confident, and capable.

Unrelentingly brave, and utterly triumphant within all that she would pursue.

These were usually the main 'ingredients' Sandra would add to each superheroine she would create for any of her newest short stories. In truth, they really were the complete opposite to her actual self, the longer she thought about it to herself now.

She couldn't honestly imagine anyone who would ever, in their right mind, at least, take the time to write a fantasy tale about _her_, and the way she presently was.

No one would go pay money to go see a movie, or sit down at home to watch a television series about a young woman who possessed babysitter parents, a stomach made of _jelly_, and other numerous, lifelong health afflictions which would most likely cause the average person to go _insane_ at having to deal with them for two decades now.

_What a blockbuster hit that would be, huh? And what wonderful 'superpowers,' too,_ Sandra grimly mused as she set about feeding her practically screaming quintet of cats encircling her about the kitchen floor, and now also her two Golden Retrievers bringing up the rear, now that they, too, were evidently awake enough to eat. _But I guess it's a good thing, then, that I'm really not some superheroine, after all, if I can't even be left alone to make enough decisions about my life on my own, not even about where I personally wish to live. The world would certainly be doomed having me as its savior, otherwise. . . ._

Yes, without a doubt, things were certainly becoming rather strained between Sandra and her folks lately, this morning being the very first she'd actually fully realized this.

But she could cope, although just barely, with their constantly coming over, nearly every two hours (a small amount of time which lately made her rue that her parents lived close enough to their daughter in order to accomplish every scheduled visit so swiftly) just to check on her to see how she was fairing with her ear infection.

However, each visit was now mostly spent trying to persuade Sandra to pack up and move with them away from Washington state where they presently resided, away from her school, and all the way to, of all places, _Italy_.

No matter how many times she'd tell them no, that she liked her hometown as well as her fairly new apartment, and would rather eat a large helping of _Escargot_ than move to Tuscany, Mr. and Mrs. Poole still insisted, quite emphatically, upon the move.

Sandra wondered when, no, _if_ her parents would ever firmly realize that, despite the limitations her health would at times present to her, she was nonetheless quite capable of fending for herself, especially now that she was finally living on her own.

But at the rate things were going, it seemed as though her parents would get their way, yet again. . . .

Suddenly feeling her momentarily shaken off exhaustion now returning in full force, which also now curiously intermingled with an odd sort of tingling sensation deep within that she couldn't quite place, Sandra dearly desired more than ever now to return to her inviting bed. But the day was only just beginning, and so, too, were the mountain of 'to dos' she hadn't even made a dent in.

Straightening up her posture after finished feeding her sea of pets their breakfast, Sandra wearily slid her blue eyes towards the pile of leftover dirty dishes still awaiting her from the previous night within her kitchen sink, and groaned in defeat.

She then gazed over at her sealed refrigerator, to the right of the sink, and quickly looked over the hurriedly written list of today's affairs she'd propped up against the freezer door. Besides the dishes, there was still also the matter of cleaning out her cats' litter boxes, sweeping the kitchen floor, organizing her living room, taking her dogs out for their daily walk, and then heading to the pet store for some more cat and dog food.

"I'm definitely starting to feel a bit like '_Cinderella_' right about now, certainly wishing I had a few extra set of helping hands," Sandra mumbled to herself as she vigorously rubbed at her smooth, and pale forehead, before peering up at the blue, gold, and silver colored wall clock perched above her stove. "Good. At least it's still pretty early. I should have enough time to get everything done before Mom and Dad come over for dinner. But, first, I'm definitely going to take my bubble bath _now_, instead of after everything is done, because this ongoing stress is just _way_ too much, too _soon_ today. . . ."

Grimacing one last time towards the stockpile of soiled dishes, alongside the disheveled living room adjacent to where she presently stood inside of her dusty kitchen, Sandra once again carefully leaped over or stepped around her clan of ferociously feasting animals, quickly pausing her CD player along the way, and eagerly headed back into her bathroom in order to draw her inviting and relaxing bath.

Unbeknownst to the young ebony haired woman, her bathe would turn out to be far more relaxing than she could ever imagine, not only for her returned fatigue, but also for the tasks still left to be done and that she personally would never get a chance to complete. . . .

The moment Sandra had sunk her entire body all the way into the warm, frothing bathtub full of soft bubbles, and shortly thereafter already began to lightly and carefully doze off within it, it was almost as though her entire apartment had suddenly taken on a life of its own.

Only her now befuddled, and frozen solid pets were able to bear witness to the kitchen faucet inexplicably turning on by itself, with each dirty dish and utensil lifting into the air one by one, in order to be soaped and rinsed by the simultaneously hovering blue sponge before them.

And once every last piece of plate ware had finished being cleaned by whatever, unidentifiable invisible force, Sandra's sometimes forgotten dishwasher suddenly then opened itself, and all the dishes swiftly 'flew' into it before settling securely inside, somehow, without one of them breaking.

Cabinets and drawers then opened, as well, and so, too, did Sandra's cutlery and drinking cups also hurriedly float over and into their respective places.

That was the last bizarre event any of Sandra's 'babies' bore witness to, as after that her broom and dust pail suddenly began to spring into action, as well, as it swept along the kitchen floor, causing all seven animals to scatter like roaches at the sight (although they honestly would have done so, regardless, as sweeping, nor was vacuuming a particularly favorite activity for their owner to do whenever they were around).

Sandra's two kitty litter boxes placed within the far corner of the living room simultaneously began to clean themselves up clear of the messes left behind by all five feline occupants at one point, as though a camouflaged hand were suddenly guiding the white colored litter scooper and small plastic shopping bag hovering within the air along.

And then finally, the rest of the living room itself promptly set about rearranging everything within it back into its former order of cleanliness. The same, undetectable influence as the rest of that nearby area of Sandra's apartment continually aided within the process, this time with pillows momentarily raising from off of the unsuspecting young woman's tan tinted couch to fluff themselves, just as randomly discarded books zipped through the air and replaced themselves away from the now cleared off coffee table, and back inside of the book shelf set behind the turned off television in the center of the vicinity.

One would have honestly believed the entire, unbelievable phenomenon to have been the product of some sort of otherworldly dream to have witnessed, otherwise, and when Sandra had reemerged from the bathroom, freshly dressed and far more rejuvenated than ever before that early morning several minutes later, she had truthfully surmised that she, herself, was still very much back within her bathtub, fast asleep and heavily within a dream of her own.

She felt her blue, much more alert eyes rapidly blinking for a few moments, before letting out a sharp outcry of alarm the instant she'd surveyed the now curiously tidy living quarters.

"_W-What_ the –? I-I . . . _Did_ I. . . .? _Huh_ . . . I _must_ . . . _must_ have already gotten all of my chores done _before_ my bath, and had simply . . . _forgotten_ because I was still feeling pretty tired," she stated, rather weakly to herself as she shakily raised a hand to her lips, gently covering them in mild comfort as she attempted to feebly assess the situation and readily explain it away.

That _had_ to be the answer, after all, right? What else could have been the case?

If Sandra's far less than ironclad stomach weren't feeling quite as uneasy as it was right then by the startling events, her normally daydreaming, fantasy adventurous mind just _might_ have wished to entertain the notion that perhaps some sort of unknown, perhaps even _magical_ entity, a guardian, perhaps, had decided to intervene upon her behalf in order to cut her some much needed slack within her workload.

_Perhaps_.

But even despite the amount of fairy tales concerning mystical creatures and godmothers she had ever read, as well as personally written about, herself, Sandra knew full well that _none_ of that was, nor ever _could_ be possible in real life.

It just _couldn't_. . . .

And so, before she could dwell upon it some more, and thereby further succeeding within honestly creeping herself out, especially since she was still very much home _alone_ for another few hours until her parents arrived for dinner, Sandra immediately pushed such a notion far out of her mind, before swiftly deciding to forgo breakfast and instead take her two dogs out for their morning walk a little ahead of schedule.

The way her day was already molding itself, she absolutely _needed_ to get out of that apartment, _tout de suite_.

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><p>The warm and inviting Canadian air playfully swirled and caressed the faces of nature, animal, and people alike that late Summer morning. And because the weather was positively inviting to be a part of that day, several parks which littered the grand and beautiful city of Ottawa were equally infiltrated with people of all ages.<p>

Children scampered to and fro, or gaily swung upon tire swings without a care in the world.

Adults were either busy jogging, or 'busy' doing nothing, as quite a few of them leisurely rested upon the grass, or upon one of the platoon of benches splayed about the park, while meticulously looking after some of those playing children.

Teenagers (mainly boys, it seemed), meanwhile, lazily hung out sporadically up against trees or by other park benches, feverishly chatting away about how many dates each of them have acquired within the past week.

Even the elderly were a bit spry that morning, as some power-walked around the park or headed into and out of the nearby recreational building to participate within the morning Aqua Aerobics classes which were being offered.

The remaining statistic was an intermingling of people, both young and old, who were busy walking their dogs, or playing Frisbee with them further inside of the park.

Clearly, virtually everyone was remaining active either outside or near the flourish, populated park. However, there was at least one person in particular who seemed to be doing more work than relaxing.

Seated alone upon one of the benches nearest a lavish fountain erected within the center of the park, and paying zero attention to the goings on around her, was a young Asian American woman by the name of Kaitlin (or "Katie," as she preferred to be called) Lu.

Within her hands was a sketchpad, along with one of the many drawing pencils she'd brought with her; and upon her creamy complexion was an extremely frustrated expression. . . .

_Argh! Why can't I get the face just right?_ thought the seventeen-year-old within exasperation, furiously erasing the face of what looked to be a mythical-oriented adult feline with feathery-like wings. _I'll never get it done on time. . . ._

One of Katie's good friends was an avid fantasy and cat-lover, and so as a gift, Katie had decided to merge her friend's two favorite interests together through drawing.

Quite an easy feat normally, as Katie was a natural, extensively talented artist; however, lately she hadn't been able to focus. No matter how much or how hard the relatively tall girl had tried, she couldn't make the picture come out exactly the way that she wanted it to - And it was, at this point, beyond irking her.

Especially since she was astoundingly aware of the reason behind her initial upset. . . .

"It's because of the stupid _move_," muttered Katie within reply to her brooding thoughts, brushing a stray strand of her mid-back length, ebony colored hair (that was occasionally on the messy, however nonetheless appealing, side) from out of her molasses-hued brown eyes. "And not just any move, either. _Ohhh_, no! It just _has_ to be all the way to _Europe!_Ugh . . . sometimes my life can be such a drag. . . ."

Traditionally, Katie was a pretty carefree, 'happy-go-lucky' sort of girl. However, ever since her father, Alec, had made the announcement last week that he had yet another job transfer, her good nature had immediately wilted.

_Just when I thought we were finally going to settle down. . . ._ she thought with a sigh, trying to resume her 'quest' to draw the feline's face without overdoing either the eyes or ears. _The only good thing about all of this is now maybe Dad will be home a lot quicker whenever returning home from Japan. . . ._

With her heritage being rooted within Japan, Katie's father often returned there once every two months and resided there for nearly two weeks while working on business deals. Recently, the stock which Mr. Lu had been working with had just been redistributed amongst the European countries, with Italy being the focal point (which was precisely where he and his family would now live).

Being transferred once more (and within a year of the last, no less) was bad enough, but halfway across the world? Katie was getting readily tired of being uprooted numerous times within the last three years alone - Far more times than the average person could not even begin to imagine, let alone undergo.

She didn't want to have to go through the entire 'moving experience' again, but she especially didn't want to go through the dreaded emotions which accompanied said experience . . .

What aggravated the young teenager the most right _now_, was that the day that she was scheduled to move was also the same day of her eighteenth birthday. Of all the days to leave the place she was finally able to call 'home,' did it have to be on her birthday?

To make matters worse, Katie had promised all of her friends a grand birthday bash at "Paramount Canada's Wonderland" in Toronto for an entire, fun-filled day. Now it looked as though it would instead have to be a going away party. . . .

Wrinkling her nose within distaste, Katie pressed her pencil so hard down onto the paper that she nearly ended up poking a hole straight through it.

Leaning back against the park bench, she exhaled an extremely perturbed, defeated sigh.

It was official: Today was shaping out to be a pretty defective day.

_Plus side? I don't honestly see how my sour mood can get any worse, though,_she readily thought within a bit of backwards self-comfort, at the same time that she idly set her sketchpad onto the bench at her side to take a momentary break.

It was right then, suddenly, that the gaggle of teenage boys who were hanging around the trees and benches across the way from her had apparently decided to adjourn from their spot and eagerly strutted over to the solitary young woman.

Instantly freezing, as Katie hadn't planned on socializing with anyone (especially not with a sea of pretty handsome-looking guys, who all seemed genuinely excited and interested by her presence), her brown eyes widened within pleasant surprise while subconsciously smoothing down her vaguely disheveled dark locks with one hand.

_Hmm . . . maybe my day can be salvaged, after all,_she mused within reinstated effervescence.

"H . . . Hi?" said Katie with a bit of uncertainty, while staring up at the crowd of high school aged males, who had begun to crowd around her without a word, with only small, bedeviling smirks spread across each chiseled visage.

"Yeah . . . hey. Say, listen, me and my 'colleagues' here were all just wondering something," remarked the tallest and apparent ringleader of the all-male group, as he casually propped his black sneakered foot up onto the bench's arm rest nearest to Katie's sketchpad.

Suddenly finding herself too engrossed within the obviously athletic young man (judging by the rippling muscles that seemed to be begging to break free from out of his white t-shirt and dark red Letterman's jacket) and his flawless, shady blonde hair and vibrant, emerald green eyes, Katie hadn't honestly taken notice of the curious ongoing of his fellow sportsmen that were beginning to take place.

"You . . . were, huh? What about?" she inquired as nonchalantly as she could, offering up a small, but nonetheless pretty smile to the seemingly enthralled male teenager.

"Well, you see, we sort of had a big debate going on between us," he modestly began while returning the smile, at the same time that he discreetly motioned to his friends to cease within the faint but growing collected snickering surrounding the unsuspecting girl.

"Mmhmm, see, we were all within a very heated give-and-take about whether or not you were busy over here, drawing yourself a _boyfriend_ or something, since it's pretty clear that you're just some pathetic _loser_to be by sitting by yourself like this!" the boy finished harshly, snatching Katie's sketchpad from off of the bench and away from her before she could even react.

Katie felt her face instantly flood with hot, raging blood within embarrassment as she helplessly watched her former admirer and his buddies guffawing it up at her deplorable expense.

"G-Give that back to me, you_ jerks!_" she'd managed to heatedly blurt out, after at last swallowing what felt like a watermelon-size frog down her dry throat.

"What, you mean your precious imaginary lover boy you'd been drawing all this time?" countered the leader of the still cackling pack (which now honestly sounded a lot more like a pack of wild hyenas, due to their unending, regrettable and unappreciative laughter), tauntingly flapping the confiscated sketchpad directly above the girl's raven-colored head, as he was greatly taller than she by comparison.

Although she desperately wanted it back, Katie was still far too dignified to jump up and down and beg like some sort of forlorn canine to retrieve her stolen property.

In the meanwhile, however, she did continue to verbally protest, while violently glaring daggers piercingly into her newfound bully's eyes, which now only reminded her very much of a _snake_ due to their shade. And that's exactly what he was, as far as she was concerned, to willingly do such a thing to her - To _anyone _- like this.

"If you _don't_ give me back my sketchpad right now, I can promise you that you _will _regret it!" she firmly threatened, surprising herself more than any of the surrounding males before her in the process.

_Right. What are you going to do if this goon doesn't give it back? Draw him into oblivion?_she mused with great skepticism, while continuing to mull over what she had verbally stated and why, given that she was not generally a volatile person, nor was she honestly menacing within any sort of capacity.

And against a group with a collected girth of a giant _bulldozer?_ With the way her day, as well as _luck_ was shaping out, Katie briefly surmised that her offending brutes could and _would _easily break her in half like a toothpick (that is, if they didn't first fold her up like one of the many pieces of paper within her still captive sketchpad, anyhow).

Shaking her sable tinted head within swift dismissal of her worrisome (however much exaggerated) thoughts, Katie watched as the blonde haired head honcho scoffed obnoxiously, before his friends followed suit for added effect.

"_Oooh_, hear that, you guys? This little lady here has a sharp tongue within that pretty little mouth of hers!" he lewdly commented, lowering his sketchpad-wielding arm and backed away from the increasingly frenzied young Asian American woman before him, so that she could not effectively snatch it away.

"You actually think that we're afraid of you? Let's hear what your '_boyfriend_' has to say about all this - I don't think that he'd very much appreciate his woman talking ill of anyone in such a way," he finished with a disgusting sneer, before at last lowering his sickly green eyes onto Katie's unfinished, magically winged-cat.

She didn't have to be a psychic to know what was coming next, as she could outright tell by now that none of the unsavory young men within her vexed presence had a sensitive bone within their horrid, steroid-induced bodies. So, therefore, she knew right from the start of this whole unfortunate ordeal that the moment that any of them eventually and properly laid eyes upon her fantasy-themed drawing, that one, if not all of them, would immediately burst out into a renewed chorus of laughter.

Sure enough, after taking in the sight of the rather cuddly, yet also slightly formidable otherworldly feline, the blonde devil abruptly exploded into a ruckus of expressed mirth. A few of his friends around him had even begun to chime in, despite not having yet seen the picture, making it clear to Katie all the more that none of them had any sort of individuality, let alone _brains_.

"Holy_ crap!_ C-Check this out! Chick wasn't drawing herself a _boyfriend_ - She was drawing herself one of those _ridiculously_ stupid and _useless_ imaginary friends that only desperate, _lonely _people make up 'cause they have no life!" he exclaimed with glee, before passing around the drawing for the rest of the guys to see.

"_Geez!_ You're even _more_ pitiful than I thought! C'mon, you guys! It's not even _worth_ it to yuck it up at her expense anymore! Catch you later, _'Loser-Girl!_'" said the leading perpetrator, before at last turning around to leave Katie to her own devices, his harsh cackling ringing throughout the atmosphere as he did so.

"_Y-Yeah! _You _'Loser-Girl!_'" mimicked the shortest of the teenage boys, a redhead who was one of the last to leave and who also briefly held within his clammy hand Katie's looked-down-upon sketchpad, before carelessly tossing it down onto the grass at her feet.

Lightly cursing underneath her breath, Katie crouched down onto the soft grass to at last retrieve her now slightly dirty sketchpad, at the same time that her body curiously began to tingle within increased heat, as well as vague nausea.

". . . . Sure, you laugh it up _now_, boys, but I'd like to see how you'd react if you really _saw_ one of these flying cats right in _front_ of you. . . ." she muttered bitterly to herself, at the same moment that she seized the grass-stained drawing of the feline in question and peered down upon it a bit longingly.

Suddenly and without warning, an extremely illuminating, soft yellow light surrounded the two-dimensional drawing. The next thing she knew, Katie was face to face with a _three_-dimensional, living and breathing version of her feline friend.

Her eyes widened as the overly dark and slightly embellished eyes of the cat met with hers momentarily within kindness, before swiftly flying away through the air and towards the offending culprits with a startling-like vengeance.

"_W-Wha -?_ Come -! . . . _back?_" stammered Katie within congested, frantic confusion, before scrambling to her feet and helplessly watched her once inanimate creation glide effortlessly over to the teenage boys.

"_Whoa! _Dude, look _out!_ I-It's that freaky-looking _cat_ drawing . . . come to_ life?_ _Run!_" exclaimed the short redhead who had been the last to hold onto the sketchpad of the bunch, and so was the _first _to recognize the fantasy being.

"_H-Huh? _I - _Ahh!_" screeched the blonde leader, as he and the rest of his crew finally caught sight of the creature now whirling teasingly over their heads, causing them to violently flail their arms around within protection.

_Katie_, meanwhile, was unsure of whether she should cross the distance between them to help, or sit back and enjoy the show.

Still, by the same token, despite having been humiliated by them, she knew that assisting them was the right thing to do . . . although, she did not know _how_, exactly, to go about doing so. She was still honestly trying to figure out how it had all happened in the first place.

Surprisingly, however, the encompassing atmosphere did not seem to agree with Katie's sentiment to aid within the newfound plight of the young men, as several people then began to either run away, stare in shock, or honestly _laugh _within amusement.

No matter the scenario, _no _one bothered to help.

"Mommy! Look at the funny men dancing!" gleefully cried out a little girl with auburn pigtails and dressed within a pink floral dress standing several feet away from the jumpy youngsters within question.

Her mother, who was by her side, swiftly snatched her away from the scene, a deep scowl of disapproval spread evenly across her face.

"Don't pay any attention to them, Susie! You boys should be _ashamed_ of yourselves, causing a big commotion like this for _nothing!_" hissed the mother sharply towards the young group of males, before once more yanking her daughter's arm to walk her away from the scene.

"_W-What? _'For _nothing?_' Are we the only _sane_ people in the park today who can see this crazy, _airborne_ cat whizzing around above us?" exclaimed the tallest blonde, while he and his men continued to duck for cover from their flying predator, at the same time that more people began to vacate the premises.

"W-Wait . . . _Are_ they the only ones who can see what _I'm_ seeing? It _would_ explain why no one seems to want to help, nor even _care_ to. . . . Then again, they _could_ also just be aware of how big a _jerk_ all of them are and feel they deserve it," murmured Katie to herself within utter befuddlement. ". . . . I guess it's . . . up to _me_ to save them, after all. . . . Although, I _still_ don't know how or why this has happened. . . . I mean, all I said was that it's too bad that my drawing wasn't real and - That must be _it!_" she began to figure out, at last managing to wrench her brown eyes away from the chaotic scene before her, as she then returned her gaze onto the blank sheet of paper where her feline conception used to be.

"M-Maybe if I just . . . just think - _Concentrate_ on wanting this to stop . . . for the the cat to become just a harmless drawing again, then . . . maybe . . . _hopefully _it will -" Katie weakly reasoned, before the suddenly abrupt sounds (or lack thereof) of silence cut her off.

Looking up, she could see all of the guys huddled together within a tight circle upon the ground, heads covered . . . while the flying cat was nowhere to be seen. . . .

It was then that Katie felt the sketchpad within her hands grow inexplicably warm, causing her to look back down. As she did so, she could see that the winged feline, once again shrouded by the same eerie pale yellow light from before, as it calmly settled back into the book without protest.

Stunned, Katie could only stare, wide eyed a few more moments, before slowly reaching out to gently poke at the drawing to make sure that it had truly returned to its stationary status.

When nothing had happened, Katie immediately gathered up her belongings and sprinted out of the park before anyone - _Especially _not the still cowering group of male teenagers - could recover and then try to point fingers directly at her.

_Suddenly, moving away again may not be such a bad thing, after all, as I'm apparently losing my marbles staying here!_

**- To Be Continued. . . .**

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><p><strong>(A.N. Ummmm...what to say...Chapter Two, everyone, with, again, a newly added beginning scene of the newreplacement Guardian-to-Be, Sandra, courtesy of Evilness's brain, and then the same second half as its Eos days. =) True, some may feel that both Sandra and Katie seem a lot alike, at least in terms of interests, or rather, both going on about drawing and blah blah, but to tell the truth, the majority of quintet of females these new Guardians are modeled after in real life each are into and/or partake within artistic workings. Coincidental, really. LoL **

**Methinks, even to this day, with the revisions to this story included, both Katie's, and then, later, Melody's power debuts are my favorite. =) Someone remind me to ask you readers which one was/is/will be yours, as well, after the next chapter is re-posted, as well, showcasing Melody and Shin's early abilities. =)**

**In any event, Evilness and I both hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, shall review, and stay tuned for the next one!)**


	4. Chapter Three: Ironclad Rejuvenation

**Guardians of Elpis**

**By Sokai and Evilness321**

**Disclaimer:** Never will the series, W.I.T.C.H., ever be claimed to be owned by us - because then we'd just end up in jail and could no longer write for you nice people. However, where the NEW plot, characters (including one new one/'replacement' of sorts)/attacks/anything else that doesn't seem familiar to the original series are concerned, we DO own - so back off. LoL.

_Note (from Sokai): This chapter will be largely recognizable to those who'd first read it back when I'd posted it a few years ago, back when it was still "Eos," since honestly nothing had been taken out, added, or altered within any fashion. So, on that note, please to be enjoying the debut of the remaining two, soon-to-be Guardians of Elpis!_

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><p>This story was first created on May 6, 2006, and 'canceled' within mid-2011. It has been revamped November 2011.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Ironclad Rejuvenation<strong>

The Summer sky was clear, the breeze which blew by a nice, cool temperature drifting through the line of trees along a local street. Its particular neighborhood was filled with the standard one, two, or even three-story houses of mediocre color and nature.

The late afternoon, early evening sky continued to be cloudless, with its warm orange hue providing an inviting ambiance to all partaking within outdoor festivities. And on a day such as this, everything seemed to simply come alive with vibrancy.

Living within the mostly French-based city of Quebec, Canada, things just usually seemed like a lot of fun, especially with all of its local festivals coming up every now and again. And, as a result, neighborhoods all around were currently congested with one type of merriment or another, despite the day coming to an end.

One house in particular, one two-story and light gray in color, was of no exception. Complete with an elegant balcony and spacious backyard, the abode's four inhabitants were all gathered upon said balcony for another one of the many barbecues they had already shared together that summer.

A black, flaming grill was set up within the middle of the fairly sized platform, with several plastic chairs set up around a nearby, elongated table covered with various edibles and condiments.

"Okay! So, who wanted the medium rare?"

Stationed in front of the grill was a tall and slender, Chinese man with raven colored hair, a plate in one hand and pair of tongs in the other, and busily turning over the multiple hamburgers and hotdogs cooking before him.

Seated behind him was his only son, Mark, a young, thirteen-year-old boy with short, messy hair the same shade as his father. He sat, wearing a rather bored expression upon his flax hued face, punching away at his cellphone in order to distract himself from the brewing hunger within his gut.

Nonetheless, the young teenager was rather accustomed to go wanting for a slightly unreasonable amount of time (even with the various treats already laid out before him upon the table), as it wasn't the first outdoor cooking event his father had presided over, after all. He was used to the man's makeshift rule of insisting that his family wait until absolutely every last hamburger, hot dog, or spare rib was cooked, and all of them seated before diving into the meal.

And while his son may have respected this request, it didn't mean that it did not secretly vex him, primarily whenever approaching near starvation. Regardless, Mark was a boy of few words, quite usually preferring to observe and allow the chips to fall where they may before making any sort of course of action.

He was also perhaps a bit "special," as was the only member within his immediate family whose name did not reflect its traditional roots. Of course, that could have perhaps attributed to the fact that his mother, Wei, had been mildly "obsessed" with the writings of Mark Twain, near the approaching time of her son's birth.

That was something Mark's only and older sister, Shin, seemed to take from their mother, rather than he, ironically: Writing. It wasn't something that he, himself, could honestly sink his teeth into; however, Shin seemed to rather enjoy doing so, and had done for the last four years or so, now.

Which was something which worked out, honestly, given that the young teenager was wrought with natural talent for the craft. Her writings would revolve around a few short stories here and there, but mainly consisted of poetry. Those were usually quite insightful, and sometimes pretty dark, in Mark's personal opinion, and he would say so to his sister, upon the fairly rare occasion that Shin would allow him to read them.

He was really the only one she would let do so, beyond the random teacher and associated school assignment they'd give to her for it, anyway. But then, the two Tseng siblings had always been rather close, in that way. . . .

Shin currently sat across from her little brother, softly making clicking noises with her tongue, while he continued to provide his own sort of 'clicking' with his cellphone. She was notably taller than her only sibling, with shoulder length, raven-colored hair which was currently still slightly damp from the pool party the pair had returned from an hour and a half earlier on.

Light brown eyes previously fixated upon the floral decorated paper plate set in front of her, the eighteen-year-old, recent high school graduate then idly glanced sideways at her father, Zhi-Hong, as he tried to flip a hamburger currently sizzling upon the grill with expert precision . . . and then let out a noise of distress once it slipped through the greasy bars and straight into the roaring fire.

"Better make _that _one well-done, Dad," Shin kidded, smirking playfully as her father tried to save the hapless burger, via shoving his spatula into the grill bars' gaps. "Mark likes 'em that way, anyway."

At this, Mark only spared a brief glance up from his mobile device, where he was no doubt currently texting with yet another one of his obnoxious friends. As if the group of four that met with him at the pool party hadn't been one, rather large handful of oddities, enough.

But then, Shin had never honestly cared for the _majority _of her brother's friends, really, and quite often found it her job as his big sister to keep them in line, and watch over the lot of them. Still, Mark, at least, was a good kid, with a just as good head on his shoulders, though; she knew that, if ever the time came to it, he'd make all the right choices.

But that still didn't mean that Shin could comprehend, for the life of her, what he saw in those numbskulls he called 'friends,' regardless.

The entire pool party, itself, had been an utter disaster, in the girl's opinion, and not simply due to the fact that she'd spent the majority of it keeping a watchful eye upon Mark and his pack of minions.

No. That had vexed her greatly, sure, but it hadn't been the sole reason.

Unfortunately for her, Shin had had to stomach a bit of brief, but no less horrifying one-on-one time with the neighbor hosting said party: Charlie Dibson.

_Dibson_.

Even the man's last name was riddled with weirdness.

Shin wasn't really sure what had freaked her out more about him: The fact that he smelled like well-aged _cheese_ upon a constant basis (earning him the nickname of "_Stinky_ Charlie," which the majority of the youth within the neighborhood secretly called him), even after having gotten into his pool and wet (which had also made her rather uncomfortable to continue swimming within it, herself), that he liked collecting various wine corks, nail clippings and _mold_ as a solid hobby, _or_, the unmistakable, greatly regrettable fact that he lived _right _next door to her.

It all honestly weighed in as a unanimous tie, within _her _opinion. . . .

After a few moments pause, Mark let out a soft yawn, breaking through Shin's thoughts, as he then replied, a bit distractedly, "Better than _fish_, that's for sure."

Shin made a face as she then suddenly remembered the main, albeit a tad peculiar course that was due to arrive any second. True, she was feeling just as hungry as her brother no doubt was, as well, and the various array of foods (especially macaroni salad, an absolute favorite dish of hers) set out in front of them that they could not yet touch didn't exactly help, either.

However, the young teenager suddenly felt herself slowly losing her appetite and able to forgo the coming meal, if it meant that she'd have to eat a single bite of the dastardly _Codfish _that her mother had tirelessly prepared.

Shin _hated_ fish, and so too, did Mark.

But everyone who knew her was well aware that _her_ personal detest ran significantly deeper than the young boy's, hands down. She never really could understand why she disliked the dish, _any _dish related to it, so much, but also didn't honestly care.

All Shin knew for sure was, she _loathed _fish, never would like fish, and certainly didn't want to deal with it at the moment. Not now, during one of the last remaining meals that she would share with her family for a long while. . . .

Shin supposed that that was most likely one of the reasons that her mother had made the macaroni salad at all, along with the other various treats which were also her favorite (absolutely _not _counting the Codfish, of course).

The slender girl, therefore, had a funny feeling what would be coming next, once the four of them finally sat down to eat. After all, it had already become quite obvious to Shin earlier on that day, when her father had curiously suggested that both she and her brother head over to Charlie's and join his pool party, "rather than stay cooked up inside," as he'd put it.

_He_ might have viewed it as being "cooked up;" to _Shin_, however, she'd seen it more so as staying indoors on purpose, as she was busy packing up the last of her belongings, courtesy of the 'Cultural Exchange Program' that she had signed up for during the previous Spring.

Within a matter of _days_, now, the high school graduate would finally be off to Tuscany, Italy, ready to experience quite possibly one of the greatest adventures of her young life.

At least, to date, anyway.

The program, itself, was a rather popular one for the youth within the city, and thus competition was pretty fierce to sign up for, let alone be chosen. And yet, by some profound miracle, Shin had succeeded in doing precisely that.

Even though she hadn't any expectations in being chosen, she nonetheless thanked her lucky stars that she had been rather undecided for which university she'd wanted to attend upon graduating from high school.

Of course, now that things, preparations, were finally beginning to slow down for her, Shin fleetingly recalled that she had actually signed up to journey to _Spain_, not Italy. . . . At least, she was _pretty_ sure that she had, anyway.

But then, even if she honestly had and there had been some sort of glitch within the system, it was obviously far too late to do anything about it now. At least she hadn't somehow ended up having to go to _France_, instead.

It wasn't to say that Shin had anything against the country; on the contrary, she thought it was rather intriguing. However, she admittedly had had her fill of trying to decipher whether or not to speak in either _French_ or _English _to any random stranger she would initially bump into, there within her hometown.

She definitely needed a long vacation from _that_, alone.

"Make way! Make way!"

Looking up in surprise, both Tseng siblings' eyes then fell upon their apron-clad mother, as she carefully walked through the open doorway, as though on cue. Wei's silky black, elegantly pulled back ponytail bobbed up and down from behind her, as she balanced a large, beautiful ceramic plate within both hands and made a beeline for the awaiting table.

And, of course, resting atop the plate, and surrounded by chopped up carrots and a wreath of rice, was one of the biggest Codfish either Tseng child had ever seen, _very _much to their dual chagrin.

"_Speak _of the devil," Shin moaned, the wafting stink of fish mixed with whatever sauce her mother had used as an accented garnish instantly hitting her nostrils.

_I know that Mom likes to be a bit of a 'daring cook' every now and again, and enjoys trying out new approaches to liven up the dining experience,_ the raven haired girl thought to herself with a mild grimace, _and__ so, it really shouldn't be __that__ much of a surprise that she's presented the fish, still very much whole, and complete with its slimy looking tail, head with its disgusting, __bulging__ eyes, and mouth agape. But it still doesn't make this moment any more 'adventurous' for me, personally. God, is it really gross looking. . . ._

Mark made a face at the ghastly dish as his stomach churned with newfound queasiness, so much so that he'd effectively then lost interest within his 'sacred' texting for a few moments, in addition to eating at all, while Shin fought the urge to gag as the smell came closer and closer.

Their mother then, with a proud smile, placed the dish down onto the center of the table, with its fish head oh so conveniently facing her eldest offspring.

"_There_ we go," she gushed, straightening up her posture. "I've been working on _this _fellow all day -"

"- _Just _you?" came her husband's mockingly innocent query, from where he still stood, in front of the flaming grill and beginning to shovel the assortment of meat off of it and onto the serving dish he had in hand.

"Oh, all right, _fine_," Mrs. Tseng huffed, although playfully, before taking off one of her flower-printed oven mitts and moved over to her spouse to bat his shoulder with it. "_Correction_: I've been working on the fish all day, _with_ your father's help. At _any _rate, I'd thought it was rather fitting, to make something extra special, more than just burgers and hotdogs. . . ."

Wei then shot Zhi-Hong a look, as he bent over to give his wife a small peck upon her cheek as he then passed, setting the aforementioned wieners and hamburgers by the revolting Codfish. The three, distinctly different aromas began to mix into something, within Shin's honest opinion, which was perhaps even _far _worse than what it originally had been when the fish was previously simply by itself.

It had taken supreme effort, on Shin's part, not to scoff at the last of her mother's words. She was abundantly aware of its hidden meaning, well beyond the woman's apparent, simple desire to branch out her taste buds.

_And it begins again_, she fleetingly mused, exhaling heavily within mild annoyance.

After all, it certainly wasn't the first time that either one of her parents had made little, colorful comments like that, in order to try to express their mostly negative opinion upon their only daughter's choice to partake within the Cultural Exchange Program. And it also wasn't the first time that the pair had done what they could to indirectly make Shin feel at least a little guilty for it, either.

In fact, now that Shin thought upon it more, ever since she, _all_ of them, had first found out that she'd been selected, her parents really had been _against_ it from the very start, pretty much. They had each flipped out at the idea of their "baby going _halfway_ across the world, to live with total _strangers_, go to a _completely_ new and rather different school, _and_ would be away from home for a full _year_," she could still recall the two of them venting during that first day.

Shin's _mom_, however, had been, to be fair, a bit more understanding than Shin had honestly expected or even thought she could be, regardless . . . despite the continued ranting and raving. Her _dad_, on the other hand, had, for lack of a better word, 'spazzed out' something pretty fierce, even to the point of threatening to somehow find a way to cancel the trip, altogether.

Still, Shin supposed that that was to be a bit expected of the man, as she was, admittedly, 'Daddy's Little Girl,' a tad. But it didn't mean that she wanted to be kept under lock and key, forever.

_Mark_ had really been the only one within her immediate family to be rather accepting and understanding, and _still _was, even now. But that was of no surprise, since again, the two had always been rather close, with Mark having always been aware of his older sister's dreams to travel.

It was true. Shin had _always_ wished to travel the world, even if it ultimately meant being able to only journey to just one place, for the rest of her life. She thrived for adventure, especially before she'd properly go away to university, and be unable to do _any _sort of traveling for a long while, she figured.

That was why this program, this _opportunity_, had truly been a blessing. . . .

"_Ugh_ . . . it seriously won't be forever, you guys," Shin heard herself saying to her family with a very uninterested tone just then, for what honestly felt like the umpteenth time that summer. She'd remembered when she'd first said that very same line to her parents, on the same day that she had gotten her letter of acceptance. It had done absolutely nothing to quell the duo's growing consternation at the time, and did not seem to be doing much for the pair, once again, _now_, Shin silently noted.

Pausing, she continued on with, "Look at it _this_ way: Whether there, in Italy, with this program, or somewhere _else_ in the world for university, I'd _still_ be leaving home. At least with _this_, it's only for _one_ year, rather than _four_. In any event, a year will fly by before you know it, you'll see. And then, for a _little _while, anyway, you two can lock me away, back inside my bedroom, safe and sound. . . ."

_I wonder if the person I'm swapping with is having this much trouble with __their__ family,_the raven haired girl wondered, choosing to avert her eyes away from the rather tense and uncomfortable stares from the both of her parents. She'd then made the mistake of locking eyes with the deceased, and honestly forgotten codfish (if only for a moment, sadly), which 'stared' back at her with its continually vacant, large and soulless eyes.

Shin made a sour face just then, feeling a grand shiver slither down her spine, at the same moment that her mother awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Sooo. . . ." she weakly began before trailing off, apparently choosing to bypass her daughter's previous statement. Her fairly unique gray eyes then began to sparkle, as she focused them upon her two prized children, although they lingered a tad longer upon her daughter. "Did you kids have any fun over at Mr. Dibson's?"

Rolling her light brown eyes, Shin then began to will herself to ignore the codfish's continued presence, something which was rather difficult to achieve, considering the toe-curling stench she also had to battle against.

"Can't you _tell?_" she answered her mother with another question as she finally was able to reach for the bowl of potato chips set before her, now that the family was at last seated together.

Mr. Tseng, seated next to his wife, warily glanced over at his daughter, catching the edge within her voice that she'd apparently tried to mask behind false pleasantness.

"_Nooo_," he spoke slowly, as he passed the plate of hamburgers and hotdogs around. "That's why your mother just _asked _you, Shin."

Shin merely dumped a handful of chips onto her plate as her initial response, before handing the bowl over to her younger, silent brother, who had finally put his cellphone away. Even though he had been quite enthralled within the various text message conversations he'd been sharing with his friends, Mark had also been mildly privy to the current discussion developing around him.

He briefly caught the current look within his sister's eyes in that moment, after having seized the potato chip bowl from her, and immediately understood what she was currently feeling:

It was now time for another one of the girl's rather infamous mood swings.

_Normally_, Shin was a pretty 'happy-go-lucky' sort of individual by default, with a pretty decent sense of humor, to boot (a trait which admittedly came in handy around the time of April Fool's day, for sure). But Mark, as much he loved her, could also attest to the fact that his sister was, more often than not, rather _moody_ about certain subjects . . . and when and if it ever came to doing something against her _will_, especially, her dander tended to rise rather dangerously.

And so, because of this, and their natural closeness, it was pretty easy for the boy to take note of the telltale signs of an oncoming 'Rage Attack,' as he'd privately refer to such moments, as well as spot the brewing annoyance currently within the girl's eyes which burned like smoking embers, waiting to violently ignite. . . .

"It was . . . _fine_," Shin finally replied, rather simply and with a light sigh, reaching for the Macaroni Salad next. "Just ask _Mark_, if you don't believe me."

"Oh, we believe you, sweetie," Mrs. Tseng said, trying to get comfortable within her plastic seat as she lightly shifted herself. "It's just that, well, you haven't exactly been really talkative lately. . . ."

"Well, I guess it's because I'm just hungry, is all," Shin answered her mother without missing a beat. She didn't bother to look up at her _or_ her father, who, like Mark, was now becoming keenly aware of his daughter's mounting vexation a bit more swiftly than his wife, perhaps. "_Famished_, really. So, maybe we should just eat within _silence_, or something, and -"

"- But I _just_ wanted to know how your day went, that's all," Mrs. Tseng continued with a seemingly casual air, ignoring the food as she then gave her daughter an expression that, in all honesty, mothers were rather famous for. Their standard "you really can't hide _anything_ from me, because I'm your _mother_," look.

The sight honestly made the woman's husband softly chuckle underneath his breath, a bit. Perhaps she was just as up to speed upon the currently unfolding matter, after all.

"I feel so _bad _letting you go off on your own, but then again . . . I guess I'll be getting used to that within the general sense, since you'll be leaving in a few days," Mrs. Tseng continued on, still not bothering with her food.

Shin could barely mask the scowl which was beginning to form upon her flax, otherwise unmarred visage, just then.

"Then why did you bother to send me off to 'Stink - I mean, _Mr. Dibson's _house, if all you wanted was to spend more time with me so badly?" the teenager asked, a bit too smartly.

Mrs. Tseng seemed to be taken aback slightly by her daughter's undeniably sour tone, which gave her father a chance to speak up upon the matter, the laid-back expression that he wore just momentarily before shifting into a rather stern glance.

"Your mother and I only thought that you should enjoy yourself a bit more around _here_, with your _family_, before doing so over _th_-" he began to explain with a frown, but was rudely interrupted by his continually emotional child in question.

"- Oh, _sure_. Because it's not like there won't be any swimming pools or beaches, or _whatever_ over in _Italy_, y'know?" Shin retorted dryly, her grip upon the plastic fork she'd had in hand tightening. Something within her curiously started to boil right at that moment; however, she merely figured that it was due to her temper steadily rising within greatness. "Don't think I can't see what you're doing."

"We're not '_doing_' anything, Honey," Mrs. Tseng objected, looking genuinely surprised by her daughter's words.

_Yeah, right,_ Shin thought, jabbing her fork straight into her hamburger, as she then clenched her fists underneath the table.

"If it isn't some type of guilt trip, _or_ 'creative' comment over my leaving, then it's _ramming_ as many random activities as you can think of down my throat, as a way to 'bond' with me, and maybe make me _regret_ my decision! You _both_ have it within your minds that I'm gonna be leaving for _Hell_ within a few days, or something, and I'm _sick_ of it! I mean, you _do_ know that I'm coming back, right? It's not like this is the _last _time you'll ever see me."

Shin then winced inwardly when she saw that her outburst had brought an extremely hurt expression to her mother's face right at that moment, while her _father _suddenly looked one degree away from being outright volatile, himself.

The both of them were quite used to their daughter's emotional fluctuations, sure; however, that didn't mean that they had to look the other way whenever she'd say something out of line, like right _now_.

"A year is a long time not to see your family, young lady. And frankly, no, I _still_ don't approve of this whole thing," Mr. Tseng said to his daughter, looking her straight into her eyes. "Living with _strangers_ isn't an easy idea to get used to, _especially_ with what you hear on the news nowadays. And while you may think that we're overdoing it, can you really _blame _your mother and I for caring about you so much?"

The barely accusatory words had nonetheless struck a chord within Shin, which then forced the simmering feeling she'd been feeling within the pit of her stomach to die down a bit the moment she saw the look within her father's eyes. He was upset, clearly, and so, too, was her mother. But, she'd also seen the concern which was blatantly underlining his irritation.

At that same moment, Mark could be heard clearing his throat, before finally speaking up after having watched the entire squabble unfold, accordingly.

"You know that Mom and Dad are just worried, Sis, that's all," he said quietly, grabbing his big sister's attention, to where he was then leaning against the table with his scrawny elbows and glancing between the three remaining members of his family. "If anything were to happen to you while you're over there, God forbid, they wouldn't be able to immediately be there for you . . . and besides, sometimes, phone calls just don't cut it."

Mark's dark gaze then locked solely onto Shin, before lightly nodding at her.

"Remember when I was away at summer camp two years ago, and stayed for almost a month? Mom, Dad, _and_ you kept counting down the days when I would come home," he continued on, lightly smiling at the memory. "And then, there was that time that I'd called home from school because I'd gotten sick during class. If I remember _that_ correctly, as well, both Mom _and _you wanted to go and pick me up. . . ."

Shin gave a slight start, her heart lurching with remembrance. She _did _recall that particular school day years ago, as well as the summer her brother had gone off to camp. It certainly hadn't been the same within their house without him around, even with her friends and other various devices she'd used to help distract her at the time.

And it was definitely one of the longest months that Shin had ever experienced (up until now, at least), wondering if Mark was all right by himself, and being unable to be there to look after him as she always would, in case he really _had _needed her. . . .

That was when yet another truth had finally hit her.

Shin wasn't just going to be away from her family; _they_ were going to be away from _her_, as well. Just like Mark had been unable to do while away at summer camp all those years ago, _she _wouldn't be able to see any of them, either.

And even when she could and would be able to call her family to speak with them via video chat and the like, she was quite sure that it just wouldn't be the same. Shin wouldn't be able to hug her mother or kiss her goodnight; she wouldn't be able to spend hours staying up with her brother, talking about the latest video games coming out as he, specifically, so often enjoyed doing; and she wouldn't be able to sit with her father, and watch whatever football game was on the television, despite her overall indifference towards that particular sport.

She wouldn't be able to do _any _of these things anymore. At least, not for a long while, anyway.

Shin had honestly been so profusely excited and consumed with the sole focus that she would be able to fulfill her dream of traveling abroad. She'd been busy spending a great majority of her time buying maps and other guides, and studying the Italian language quite rigorously, in preparation for her grand adventure . . . that she hadn't truly bothered to once step outside of herself, and stop to realize what she was going to be losing, in return: Her _family_.

Shin really _was_ going to miss them, just as they'd made it abundantly clear that _they_ were going to miss _her_. . . .

Her genuine regret and delayed realization must have then shown upon her face quite crystal clear within that moment, because the facial expression upon Shin's _father _quickly softened as he reached over next to him and laid a strong hand upon her shoulder.

"We just want you to remember this place - Remember _us_ - when you get to Italy," he said gently, with a soft twinkle within his eye. "Memories to keep and hold onto to get you by, while you're off forging _new_ ones over there. And then, memories for _us_, for _after _you leave and we won't see you for the whole year. . . . That's a long time to wait, baby girl."

Shin bit her lip, trying very hard not to start tearing up at that moment. She'd been such an honest . . . _witch_, for lack of a better word, _and _drama queen during that week, alone, and all because of her family's seemingly 'pushy' schedule.

It was a shame that it had taken her that long, just _days_ before her eminent departure, to fully realize the _true _motives behind it.

"The holidays . . . your _birthday_ . . . the annual festivals around here . . . we won't be able to celebrate them together within the coming year, and _certainly_ can't as properly over the computer, either, honey," Mrs. Tseng gently added, smiling, with great difficulty, at her daughter, as the tears within her _own_ eyes threatened to fall. "_That's_ why we tried our very best to get in as many good times with you under our belt as we could. . . . But, at least, we still have a few days left to share together, after all. After which . . . you'll be sure to _email _us, though, right?"

"If Mom can work the computer _without _my help, that is," Mark suddenly teased, grinning at his older sister knowingly, and winked.

Shin was truly at her breaking point by then, absolutely ready to start crying now, as she curiously began to feel the same sizzling heat which had been inside of her while she had been upset earlier, now slowly morphing into a warm, bubbly feeling which seemed to flow throughout her entire body.

Her family really _was_ the best . . . even if she _was_ sometimes a bit blind or preoccupied to readily take notice. After all, they _had_ to be great, if they still found themselves able to care for and love someone as admittedly emotionally _nutty _as she sometimes would become.

As she sniffled a bit, in order to keep herself from outright _bawling_, the familiar, miraculously forgotten stench of codfish then slammed harshly against Shin's nostrils like a battering ram, causing her to regrettably return her attention back onto the temporarily ignored meal.

_Now, if only we didn't have to eat that vile __fish__, then this would be the __perfect__ family moment,_were her exact thoughts as, still feeling the churning warmth inside of her, she focused upon the 'threatening' sea creature for a few moments, and wished more than ever that she and her family didn't have to worry about eating it.

And then, it happened.

In what she could only describe as a 'popping' sensation, the warm sensations inside of Shin's body seemed to abruptly vanish and, for the briefest of moments, she'd thought that a faint, dark crimson flicker had licked over the codfish's sauce-drenched scales.

It was gone a second later, however . . . and was replaced by a sudden jerk of inexplicable motion, as the fish's formerly immobile body began to spasm and start bucking about the plate it was decoratively laid upon.

Giving a squeal of shock, Shin almost fell backwards out of her chair as her light brown eyes widened, watching as her father immediately jumped to his feet and stared down at the codfish . . . which had been _dead_ just mere moments before, however was _now _floundering around upon the plate, its flapping tail kicking up rice and flicking seasoned sauce every which way.

"_Ahh!_" Mark cried out within alarm, his plastic chair grating against the Tseng's balcony floor, as he then pushed away from the table. "I-It's _alive!_"

"Wei, I thought that you'd _cooked_ it well enough!" Mr. Tseng questioned his wife, voice barely above a whisper, as his disbelieving eyes continued to gaze upon the uncontrollable and _very _much alive codfish.

A very stunned Mrs. Tseng, who had been just sitting there within her seat, her own eyes gaping madly, and almost as widely as the fiercely gasping _fish's _own were, silently watched as it managed to get its front half off of the plate before bumping into the jar of pickles which was in front of Shin's partially filled paper plate.

"I . . . I . . . I guess _not_," the woman finally managed to stutter, shakily getting to her feet in that moment, alongside her husband, as the both of them continued to try to figure out how they were going to handle the current situation . . . or, _moreover_, how it had occurred, in the first place.

_Shin_, meanwhile, ironically now found herself quite unable to look _away_ from the desperately suffocating codfish. How was it that, only mere moments ago, it had been _deceased_, she was pretty certain . . . and yet, _now_, had somehow managed to come _back_ to life, even after having been _cooked _within her mother's oven?

Had she simply _imagined_ that brief, _very_ odd glow which had encased the fish prior to its curious revival? Shin swiftly began trying to convince herself that it had just been a mere trick of the _light_, from the blazing sun overhead, in fact.

_Anything _to keep her mind from thoroughly unraveling.

However, the strange light and the reanimated codfish weren't the _only _things the young girl was currently doing her best to ignore. For, as she'd noticed just then, the warm feeling which she'd experienced prior to the overall incident was eerily gone, as well . . . as though it had never been there at all. . . .

* * *

><p>"<em>There!<em> I think that's the last of it! Aww . . . I _still_ can't believe that you're going all the way to _Italy _for college, Mel. What'll I do without you?"

Twenty-year-old Melody Casey smiled softly at her best friend, neighbor, and honest to goodness, 'sister' for the last fifteen years, Brit Walker. The two were currently seated, upon the fluffy, teal carpeted floor of her rather large and comfortable bedroom, and surrounded by a sea of various cardboard boxes.

The young woman felt her hazel colored eyes begin to gently water as she continued to gaze at the blonde seated before her, who cradled the box she had just sealed up against her chest as though within comfort.

". . . . We've shared some pretty good times within this room together, haven't we, Brit?" Melody murmured within question, averting her eyes away from her friend (who also then seemed like the desire to cry had just stricken her as well), and looked about the now mostly empty bedroom.

She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, causing her long, bone straight and dark brown hair to freely cascade over her shoulder, just as a curious, dark red smear upon her otherwise lime colored wall had caught her eye.

Now that the majority of her things were now packed away or moved out, including the desk which used to be propped against that same spot, Melody could at last take notice of the mysterious, honestly out of place mark.

". . . . Mel? What is it?" she could hear Brit ask out of curiosity of her own, as the brown eyed girl watched the other girl slowly begin to crawl towards the wall.

Upon closer examination, Melody realized that it was dried up blood; however, rather than grow alarmed at such a rather disturbing discovery, she merely smiled within fondness.

"Heh. . . . Hey, remember when you and I were nine, and we watched the Olympics for the first time together? The Summer one, I believe," she began softly, settling back down onto the floor and gazed at her companion momentarily, before turning her attention back onto the stain upon her wall. ". . . . And then, after watching all those gymnasts do their impressive flips and routines so flawlessly, we were_ hooked! _We wanted to be _exactly_ like them, learning gymnastics, and doing the _same _routines they did. . . ."

Brit nodded eagerly and grinned within amusement, as the memory came rushing to her, as though it had only happened just yesterday.

"_Y-Yeah!_ Only, everyone kept telling us that it'd take _years_ for us to become _half_ as good as they were, if we were _lucky!_ But, that didn't stop us, anyway, since we just kept right on practicing, and teaching ourselves those _crazy_ flips every chance we got, even though it probably could've gotten us _killed_. In retrospect, we probably _should_ have just gone with the _actual_ lessons, from real, _certified_ instructors," she added with a light chuckle, making her way over to her good friend. She then slowly reached out to touch the dried up blood spot, before giggling once more. ". . . . Sorry for having executed that cartwheel so _horribly_, and bashed my knee up pretty good for it, Mel. But, at least I've apparently left my 'mark' with my gymnastics in _some_way, right?"

Melody, too, began to laugh heartily alongside her greatest comrade at this, the two of them getting lost within their fits of merriment for quite some time. It wasn't until the both of their insides absolutely burned for mercy that the two found that they could stop, and collapsed onto the floor within a tired heap.

Neither woman could speak immediately afterward, the both of them secretly hoping to cite their previous tittering as the cause, however knew better.

This was really it.

After so many years of being at each other's side without fail, Melody was moving away.

She knew how crushed Brit was going to be the moment she had found out, perhaps even more so than Melody's parents, Selene and Nathan, or her sixteen-year-old brother, Corey. Both girls had been through the world together, and were thick as thieves for it. They'd shared the majority of every milestone a young teenager, or moreover, a young _woman _can personally experience.

The first love.

The first _kiss_.

The first heartache.

Even, the first, dreaded _period_. . . .

And whenever either of them was in trouble, the other was never far behind to lend a hand, or provide backup, if needed. When Brit's mother, someone both girls had been quite close to, had died of illness when they were only twelve-years-old, Melody had never left the blonde's side. The two had never known greater pain than that before within their young lives, and admittedly had grown up a little bit for it, and a lot faster than most other children their age at that time.

Still, through all of their mourning, celebration could be found, for both girls were able to solidify their friendship within a much more deepening manner, as a result . . . to become the 'sisters' they still were today.

And then, there was Melody's big shock, or 'woe,' which hadn't happened until years later: Her parent's separation. After her parents had gotten divorced around five years ago, she was absolutely crushed. And to make matters worse, her mother had gotten remarried shortly afterward, to _less_ than a man, within Melody's honest opinion.

Melody just couldn't imagine how a couple which had always seemed so perfect and true, so _grounded_, could have suddenly strayed so far away from the promises that their wedding vows had entailed.

And to add injury to insult, to have traded in all of that for a man Melody's thoughts and feelings for were something less than to be desired? Although generally a rather levelheaded, smart, and caring young woman, the only person she could ever recall honestly associating the word 'hate' with would be her stepfather.

_Michael_.

_Michael_. Even his name, alone, invoked such feelings of rage within Melody. Only Brit, naturally, was readily aware of the girl's extreme animosity for the man, and while she accepted it, would used to always try to lighten the mood by passing it off as a joke.

However, it was always anything but funny to _Melody_, and _still_ was. If it were ever up to _she_, and she, alone, to save him from eminent _death_, Michael would surely _perish_, that was how strong and how deep her distaste for the man ran.

But, at least, Melody was aware that Brit couldn't entirely blame her within her most soured sentiments.

A beer-guzzling, darts-throwing, pool and air hockey playing _load_, Michael was anything but a model father, or _citizen_, for that matter. A former construction worker, until an on-site injury rendered him unable to continue, he now spent the majority of his days at the bar, blowing a good chunk of his Workers' Compensation and Disability checks upon miscellaneous, and unimportant investments. And then, during the evenings, he would come home, and wallow, down within his precious, well furnished basement, where his various games and refrigerator stocked full of beer awaited him, within self pity for having been abruptly cut down within his prime.

In effect, Michael was nothing more than a giant _child_.

No. A _child_ would perhaps do _far_ more than _he _did on a day to day basis.

No. To Melody (and perhaps even to her brother, Corey, with whom she was close, as well, but could not honestly tell how _he_ felt for their stepfather, as he was of the quiet, thoughtful kind by nature), Michael was a fantastic, and glorified _loser_.

However, to her _mother_, who was undoubtedly _blinded_ by her love for him (and _had_ to be, the way Melody perceived it, considering how otherwise intelligent and independent the woman had always been), he was the _world_.

And it was only for that reason alone that Melody continued to keep silent within regards to her extreme choler towards the man, and had made it an active point to avoid being around him at all costs if she could help it. . . .

Indeed. It honestly had taken quite a while for her to emotionally heal and accept the fallout between her parents (despite the blatant unpleasantness which was Michael), but Melody at last had.

And, of course and as always, with _Brit's _help.

If it hadn't been for _her_, staying up all of those nights to listen to the brunette rant and rave over the telephone, or to give quiet and calming advice while offering her shoulder to cry upon, Melody would most likely still be sizzling over the entire ordeal, rather than be genuinely happy for her mother . . . or rather, _try_to be, anyway.

Besides which, just because they were no longer together did not mean that Selene and Nathan did not remain in touch, and became the closest of friends as a result, in fact. And so, it wasn't an honestly picture perfect family, but it was Melody's, nonetheless.

And it may have also honestly paled within comparison to the permanent loss of a parent, but Brit was still there for Melody, regardless, just like _she_ was there for _her_ . . . and always _would _be.

_But . . . __will__ I? Will __she__? We've never been away from one another like this, before,_ Melody thought to herself with much chagrin, blindly reaching out to softly stroke the blonde's curly, short hair with one hand, while tapping her own, flat stomach with the other. _I mean, we'd always gotten so depressed whenever our families had taken separate vacations, and that was only for a couple of __weeks__. . . . How will we manage, __now__? Maybe this was a big mistake. . . ._

". . . . You're ready, you know," Melody suddenly heard Brit whisper at her side, effectively breaking through her worrisome thoughts, as though having somehow been privy to them. She then slowly sat up, and looked at her long time friend, brown eyes surprisingly firm.

Melody, too, rose from her place, and suddenly found herself unable to hold Brit's gaze, as her insides became knotted up within conflicting emotions.

"W-What? I don't underst -"

"- Yes, you _do_ understand, Mel. _Moving_. Leaving good ol' Columbus, Ohio, and winning that full scholarship to Tuscany is one of the greatest things that's ever happened to you," Brit interrupted with a raise of her small hand, before gently seizing the both of Melody's. "You worked _so_ hard for it, too, _especially_ after delaying college for a bit, until you'd figured out what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. . . . And you could've easily taken your dad's money to help you get in, too, but you chose to take the harder path, proving to your new school that you _deserved_ their scholarship _and _to be there. . . ."

Melody felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she continued to listen to her friend's ongoing praise. True, she _hadn't _really known what ultimate career choice she wanted to make, as many, various things honestly interested her all at once. And it was also true that her family (or at least, on her father's side, anyway) was rather well off . . . and it showed within the house her father used to share with her mother, but let her keep within the divorce.

A white colored, three-story cottage, with its finished basement, four rooms upstairs and two downstairs span, including an in-ground pool, large deck and privacy fence which surrounded the entire backyard, money was certainly something the Casey family was not lacking.

However, despite this, Melody found that she wanted to forgo her father's assistance once she'd finally settled upon a definite school and career, and work her hardest to get in. And Brit was absolutely right, she couldn't deny. She _did_ deserve it, after spending the last year and a few months or so, attending as many classes as her chosen curriculum at the nearby community college would allow her at one time to take . . . and honestly _sailing _through each as a result of her fierce dedication.

And now, it was finally time.

Melody would journey to Tuscany, scholarship in hand and courage within her (or, so she hoped), in order to pursue her dream of becoming a chef. It really _was _an absolute dream come true in and of itself, just to be able to go at all . . . even if it meant saying goodbye to those she loved so dearly.

The now profusely emotional brunette at last looked up at Brit and smiled genuinely at her, just as a lone tear escaped from her hazel eyes and trickled down her pale cheek.

". . . . What happened to 'What'll I do without you?'" she lightly joked, before swiftly wrapping her arms around the other girl, who then let out a tiny chuckle before beginning to cry, herself.

"And I _still_ don't know what I'll do . . . except maybe give _gymnastics_ another try," Brit jestingly replied, herself, in between soft sobs. "But, hey. This _isn't_ the 'Stone Age,' right? We'll call each other every day! Okay, well, maybe not _every_ day, for sake of our phone bills . . . but we'll also send letters and e-mails, too! And you'll come home for the holidays, as well, _naturally_. . . and, before that, we can use that video chat program, 'Skippy,' which I'd set up for you on your computer. So, see? It'll be like you never left!"

Melody nodded lightly within agreement against Brit's left shoulder, already feeling a little bit better, as she always would whenever listening to the other girl's words of reassuring or wisdom. She silently thanked the Heavens that the blonde was the more technologically savvy between the pair (and, moreover, was currently also going to _school_ for it); otherwise, the two really _would _had to have waited until the holidays to visually see each other again.

With a dual, small sigh, both girls gently pulled apart from one another and stared at each other within silence for a few moments, before bursting into another fit of giggles at the sight of their now bloodshot, and puffy eyes.

"Wow, do _you_ look like _Hell,_ now," Melody began in between sobbing hiccups and laughter, reaching out to brush away some of her best friend's tears from her face. "But, maybe you're _right_, Brit. . . . I mean, change _is_ always good, right? Maybe this is just another one of those 'milestones' of ours to go through. But, _do_ try not to lose your mind without me around to keep it _sane_, as always, all right?"

Brit rolled her brown eyes at this, pulling away from her friend's helpful hands before suddenly rising to her feet.

"Well, we'll never know that until you're _gone_. And you'll never _be_ gone, unless we finish putting the rest of these boxes into the rental truck outside," she remarked with a grin, giving a few lasting sniffles within the aftermath of her shed tears, before bending over to pick up the cardboard box she had previously sealed. "On _that _note, I'll go on ahead and bring this one down, all right?"

Melody, a small, appreciative smile now caressing her rosy lips, merely watched in silence as her childhood companion left her bedroom and vanished from view.

_The greatest, that one is,_she mused with another, tiny chuckle to escape past her lips, before climbing to her feet, as well.

"Well, better do like she says and get -" the brunette lightly began to herself, before abruptly stopping the moment a familiar, _very _unwelcome voice could be heard from the hallway.

"Honehh, I'm _hoomme!_" the deep, and ridiculously drunken-slurred voice of Michael called out into the atmosphere, as he began to make his way down the hallway towards his shared master bedroom with his wife . . . which, unfortunately, required him to pass by his _stepdaughter's _room, first.

Realizing this, Melody swiftly dropped the box she had bent over to pick up, and whirled around to race towards her bedroom door to close it in time . . . but was too late.

"_W-Whoooa_, thur! Heh . . . Where . . . Where's da _flyer_, 'Lil' Lady?'" Michael slurred in between chuckles of unknown amusement, after swiftly slapping a thick, hairy arm against his stepdaughter's door, and preventing her from closing it all the way.

Melody immediately winced and turned her head away from her stepfather, the moment his profusely liquor-sodden breath hit her nostrils and nearly burned the various small hairs within, as a result. She instantly felt her blood beginning to run cold, just as it always would whenever faced with the abominable man . . . however, something inside also sort of felt a bit different this time, as well.

Something . . . '_extra_,' almost.

While trying to put her finger on what it could be, Melody, with all of the inner strength she'd possessed within her, did her best to bite back her natural anger towards Michael as she replied, ". . . . I'm assuming you mean '_fire_,' not '_flyer_,' Michael. And there _isn't_ one. I just wanted some _privacy_ while I finished packing up my things - That _is_ what doors are for, after all. . . . And I thought I'd asked you _multiple_ times _not_ to call me '_Lil' Lady?_'"

At this, Michael let out a high pitched, long whistle, which honestly caught Melody by surprise and caused her to back up, as she could no longer handle any further inhaling of the man's foul breath.

Unfortunately, however, he seemed to have taken this action as an invitation to enter her bedroom, as he'd then done precisely that before she could stop him.

"_Man_, do you . . . do you haf a _mouf_ on you! _Sasseh_, j-jurst like yer _mama _can be!" Michael spoke with a grin as he continued walking into Melody's room, and very lopsidedly so, due to his inebriated state. "C . . . Cayn't a fathurr come home early, say hyehllo tah his daughter an' spend some time wiff her, before she heads off tah collidge?"

The heavyset scowl which had placed itself upon Melody's face from the very start of her encounter with the unpleasant man immediately deepened in that moment, as Michael's choice of words, no matter how mostly incomprehensible, sent a cold shiver straight down her spine.

_Michael_, her '_father_,' or _she_, his '_daughter?' And_ wishing to spend time with her, when the _only_ actual 'time' the pair had ever shared was during his unfortunate _wedding _to her mother?

What a _laugh!_

_And I'll be __damned__ if I ever spend any more time with him than __that__. He will __never__ be my father, nor come __anywhere__ close to my real one,_Melody thought angrily, her focus upon the ire brewing inside of her completely overshadowing the previous, 'extra' feeling she had mildly observed earlier.

For, as her rage grew, so too did the curious, tingling and tepid sensations which had begun within the pit of her stomach, and was now slowly flooding the rest of her body within surging waves. Moreover, at the same time, a soft, but growing rattling began to sound from behind Melody, which continued to go unnoticed by her . . . but _not _by her stepfather.

Michael, who had been previously smiling, with his usual drunken expression of half lidded, blue eyes, slowly began to widen them within alarm, as the simper effortlessly faded away and his attention abruptly shifted. He then shakily raised a thick finger into the air, and pointed it over Melody's shoulder, and towards the girl's now curiously vibrating and now more loudly rattling iron-made, king sized bed.

Stripped of its usual two mattresses and coverings, it was quite easy, then, to see that it was indeed shaking on its own, somehow, as though having been caught within an earthquake . . . or perhaps even resembled merely one of those coin operated beds usually found within cheap, and sleazy motels.

But _neither _was the current cause or culprit . . . so how was it otherwise possible?

"U-Uh . . . Lil' Lady? W-What's up wiff yer b -" Michael weakly began, his intoxicated and hazy mind utterly baffled by both the current happenings, as well as to why his stepdaughter did not even seemed phased by it one bit.

He was cut off abruptly by the girl in question, however, who had at that point reached her absolute fill of his presence for one day . . . _or_, within an infinite amount.

"- I _thought_ I _just_ told you _not_ to call me '_Lil' Lady_,' Michael!" Melody snapped viciously through her bouts of anger, not once breaking her continued gaze upon the now shivering man, as the quaking behind her grew dangerously louder. "I am _not_ your _daughter_, and you are _not_ my _father!_ You are just some _horrible_ mistake my mother's now unfortunately _stuck_ with! Now, I have to finish packing, so just get _out!_"

As though the last of her words had been a trigger, the front and back supporting iron boards to the brunette's bed suddenly collapsed and toppled over, while one of the underlying beams inexplicably flew into the air and sailed straight for Michael's head.

"_Ahhh!_" both he, as _well_ as _Melody _screeched within alarm, simultaneously ducking and falling to the ground for protection, causing the careening beam to just miss his balding, red colored head. It then settled, with tremendous dissonance, several feet behind him and within the middle of the long hallway, halfway to the man's master bedroom.

As though formerly within a trance, prior to such a terrifying event, Melody then seemed to have come out of it completely, as all of her previous fury miraculously (considering Michael, her usual trigger, was still very much within the room) left her within that moment . . . and the rattling of her previously constructed bed at last ceased.

_W-What . . . was __that__? _she thought weakly, blinking her hazel eyes rapidly, as the curious, prickling sensations which had also been going on inside of her had also evaporated.

As Melody slowly rose to her feet once more, Brit, in that moment, came barreling into the bedroom within alarm.

"I-I heard a _crash! _Is e-everyone _all right?_" she asked in between shallow, shaky breaths, looking from a now balled up and openly sobbing Michael still very much upon the floor, to her best friend, and back again with mixed concern and confusion. Her brown eyes then rested upon the mysteriously dismantled bed, before slowly turning around to gaze upon the lone support beam resting within the hallway. ". . . . D-Do I . . . even _want _to know?"

Melody, in between deep, uneasy inhales of her own, moved from her spot and walked right past her crying and still drunkenly stupefied stepfather, whom she'd once again chosen to ignore, honestly thinking it to be the best course of action for that particular moment.

She then stepped out into the hallway and looked at the beam for a few moments, herself, before swallowing quite hard within reply, ". . . . I . . . I'm not really sure that _I'd_ like to know, _myself_. . . ."

**- To Be Continued. . . .**

* * *

><p><strong>(A.N. from Sokai: Yayyy, my personal fave chapter of the overall story thus far, both back when it was "Eos," and now, as "Elpis." Definitely add Melody's power debut, indeed, her overall scene, to my top favorites list, as well, next to Katie's within the previous chapter. ….Could've killed her poor, unsuspecting stepfather, woman. Oh, well, as far as she'd be concerned, or wouldn't be, rather. LoL Speaking of 'killed,' I remember how fun it was to had written the blurb between Melody and Brit a few years back, about their little gymnastics escapades, because it's precisely what I, myself, used to do, damn near every day whenever I'd watch the original Power Rangers, just as I'd revealed in my 'Eos' AN for this chapter when it was first posted years ago. LoL Seeing as Kimberly, the Pink Ranger, had been my fave Ranger, and watching her do all those cartwheels and other impressive moves, me, having been a mere nine-year-old and slight 'Miss Know/Do-It-All' at the time, used to use the side of my parents' bed as a support as I'd teach myself to do cartwheels, as well...Again, like Brit had said to Melody, in retrospect, definitely, I'm lucky I hadn't broken my neck, let alone anything else while attempting such fast paced, and sloppy executions, all while usually unsupervised, to boot...Woooo, was I ever lucky. LoL BUT, plus side? At least I'd managed to end up teaching myself how to do a real cartwheel, as a result, anyhow. LoL =)**

**ANYWAY! Both Mel's and Shin's scenes were real fun for me to have written years ago, and just as fun to re-read now, before re-posting it for both old school "Eos" 'fans,' and new "Elpis" readers. At least it was a nice mini vacation for Evilness, anyhow, not to have worried about helping to write anything for this chapter, eh? LoL Which is good for her for right now, I guess, since that gal, as always, is currently brimming with a million and one other projects and ideas simultaneously running at once. HeHe**

**Oh, right, and Brit's blurbie about she and Mel speaking with 'Skippy' was obviously 'Skype,' but we can't name names here, of course, not unless you wish to be sued. The usual. Plus, it's always been what I personally call it whenever I'd use it to call my hubby 'back in the day' before he moved to the States, and now, more commonly, whenever I'm calling to speak with my sister and my jumbo baby nephew, 'Lil' Gavi' in FL =)  
><strong>

**But, annnnyway! Here's to hoping that both she, and I will get the next chapter out to you, those reading this tale, as soon as possible! =) )**


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